


Honor Among Thieves

by squarephoenix



Series: A Thief in the Night [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe, BAMF Derek, BAMF Stiles, Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, Car Sex, Evil Kate, Genetic Engineering, Hurt Stiles, Kidnapped Derek Hale, Kissing, M/M, Mention of Talia Hale - Freeform, Rescue Missions, Rich Derek Hale, Scott Gets Bitten, Thief Stiles Stilinski, Tortured Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 20:37:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6392857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squarephoenix/pseuds/squarephoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski, aka Crimson Fox - master thief, came through for Derek Hale in his time of need...at a price. With their deal behind them, can Derek continue to trust Stiles to have his back when the only thing the werewolf has to offer the thief is himself? Or will the the fox live up to its trickster reputation?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Swinging from the chandelier

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, it's taken me so long for a sequel. Too many plot bunnies hopping in my head that demand attention. Ugh, the amount of WIPs I have vs the amount of time I have to write them is truly staggering. Pfft. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. And all mistakes are mine, sorry again.

Derek groggily makes his way out of bed to the video intercom of his penthouse. The persistent ringing through his home wakes him out of his much needed rest from a hard night. Hard is putting it mildly. Most people’s definition of a hard night is recovering from a hangover or surviving overtime at work. For Derek, it is surviving fatal gunshot wounds. The amount of trauma his body endured the previous night took its toll on his healing abilities. The long rest leaves Derek almost fully recovered, he looks perfectly fine to anyone else but he can feel he isn’t at his optimum level.

Derek leans against the wall and pushes the button to the intercom. “Mr Hale, you have a--”

Derek cuts off the security guard in the lobby. “I distinctly remember telling you not to disturb me for the rest of the day.” 

“Yes sir, sorry but you have a guest. One Mr Kreznik.” 

“I don't know any...Kreznik.” Derek answers tiredly wanting this exchange to end so he can slink back into bed.

“Excuse me, sir. The young man says to inform you that he is of the...Kreznik triplets?”

Derek plops his head on the wall with a sigh. “Send him up.” Derek had hoped to never hear that ridiculous alias again. He makes a mental note to ask Stiles what he was thinking when he conjured up with that foolish identity. When Stiles comes inside his apartment...any minute now...

A newfound source of energy surges in Derek pushing him to tidy up. The werewolf wants to preserve some illusion of togetherness that the thief seems to think of him. The place isn’t exactly a mess but he does need to tidy up. The elevator from the lobby to his penthouse won’t allow much time for a good, thorough clean up. So Derek decides to focus on the front area where Stiles is mostly likely to venture into, pushing work files haphazardly into stacks and tossing clothing strewn around in a discreet pile in his closet. He can’t explain why it was so necessary to maintain a facade of togetherness in front of Stiles when the thief had seen him at his worst. It could have to do with the hard set mentality of keeping up appearances. A trait that was hard to drop after a lifetime.

The werewolf hears his guest’s heartbeat on the other side of door and knows time is up. Before Stiles has a chance to ring the doorbell, Derek opens the door - bordering on ripping it off its hinges. 

“Hi. Eager to see me?” Stiles smiles easily. 

Derek catches Stiles' eyes roam over his body, belatedly realizing he only has on loose fitting sweatpants hanging low on his hips where Stiles’ gaze seems to linger the most. “If you’re worried Stiles, I’m fine.” 

“Yes, yes you are. I’m just making sure you are in good health. And I have to be thorough about it.”

“Do I pass the inspection?” To see Derek’s bare chest, one would never think he caught two fatal bullets in his chest and shoulder. 

“Do you mind if I--” Stiles’ words hung in the air along with his hand close to where he had applied pressure on open wounds last night. A nod from Derek causes Stiles to close the distance between his fingertips to graze over Derek’s chest, eliciting a twitch in response. “Shit! M’sorry, does it still hurt?” Stiles rushes out panickedly.

Derek stares away from Stiles’ concerned eyes, a flush of embarrassment reddens the werewolf’s face. “No, it...tickled.” 

The thief snorts, “Oh my god, you are like the worst depiction of a werewolf. You’re not a big, bad scary thing. You’re a --” Stiles stumbles thinking of a response and despite Derek’s glare the thief snaps his fingers before continuing when inspiration hits. “You’re a care bear is what you are! All soft and warm and full of feelings.”

“Shut up Stiles before I throw you out.” Derek’s face is pouting more than scowling to his dismay. He isn’t a care bear. Derek doubts there are any care bears that have had bullets extracted in someone’s bathroom.

“Aww, don’t be mad.” Stiles coos to the annoyance of Derek.

Suddenly, there’s a dramatic change to Stiles’ scent and the thief’s bright smile visibly downturned into a frown. “What’s wrong? You became sad all of a sudden.” 

“I - uh, it really sucks thinking people are out to kill you for no real reason except out of hate. You really are a great guy, Derek.” Stiles’ sad brown eyes stare into Derek’s surprised ones, much too openly for the werewolf to handle properly without the tips of his ears to burn red. 

“Now who’s the care bear...” Derek murmurs.

“I know, right.” Stiles huffs humorously. “Are we planning on staying in the hallway? ‘Cause it’s nice and all but…” Stiles lifts the bag Derek hadn’t noticed he was holding. “Not a great place to eat dinner.”

_ Dinner?  _ Derek completely lost track of time, he had expected Stiles to drop by later in the day. When Derek left Stiles in the living room, Derek saw on his phone it was later in the day - much later. And a few missed texts told him Stiles had been trying to reach him throughout the day, each sounding increasingly worried. 

The werewolf returns to his guest in a Henley with drinks to go with the food, Derek finds Stiles rummaging through the library. “Can I help you find something, Stiles?” Derek asks with amusement. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to leave a thief alone in a millionaire’s home and not expect him to rifle through his things. 

“Where’s your lair?” Stiles questions, continuing to push and pull on the books of Derek’s impressive wall sprawling bookshelf.

“My what?”

“Your lair. Secret base of operations. You know, a batcave like Batman. I mean you have the money, the whole saving the innocents thing, and the brooding, dark looks. You have to have a batcave of some kind.” Siles informs the werewolf.

“I’ll get on that right away, I didn’t know the obligation I had to own an in-home...lair.” Derek says sarcastically as he sets the wine bottle and glasses on the coffee table. 

Stiles sits on couch and scoots to the edge to set the food on the coffee table. His movements are halted when he hears a deliberate, loud  _ ‘ahem’ _ . Derek, with raised brows, flickers his eyes from the couch to the floor to signal where Stiles is allowed to park his rump.

The thief blows a breath out of annoyance as he obeys the werewolf’s rules. “If we can't sit on the couch then why aren't we eating in the kitchen? You know, where there are  _ chairs _ .” Stiles complains as he wiggles his butt to find comfort on the hardwood floors.

Derek tosses his guest a throw pillow, hoping to end Stiles’ imitation of a dog wiping itself on the floor. Once again Derek has to question how this kid was the one to nearly destroy all of his hard work protecting the identities of werewolves in hiding. 

“I want to see the news coverage, make sure no one saw me.” Derek squatted down next to Stiles on the cushion he brought for himself, flicking on the news with sound low and keeping an eye on the headlines scrolling across the screen.

“Dude, I think you're in the clear. I'd imagine if a shot millionaire was caught on film you would have a parade of reporters downstairs. Did anyone even leave you any messages?

“No.”

“See? Quit worrying and turn to something decent.”

Instead of turning the TV off Derek mutes the low volume completely. His eyes belatedly catch the contents of the spread before him on the coffee table. “I paid you 250 thousand dollars and you brought me fast food?”

“Yeah, that’s why I got a deluxe, only the best for my Der.” The thief gives a wink and Derek decides to ignore the playful way Stiles claimed the werewolf as his.

“I’m not sure the 1944 red wine goes with a...deluxe.” Derek states with disdain, regretting his choice of wine for the evening’s meal. Normally the werewolf’s supernatural sense of smell would have detected Stiles’ choice of food but his powers are still in recovery mode. Derek would have just ordered in but even fast food at this point is a temptation he can’t deny his empty belly.

“Because the wine’s too old?”

“Yes, Stiles let’s blame the wine in this scenario.” Derek dryly replies. His sarcasm clearly went over Stiles’ head as the thief was too embroiled in his order of curly fries.

“Anyway, split three ways between my team and with my former debts, not much is left. Be grateful I didn’t bring over instant noodles.”

Derek remembers the guy who dropped off Stiles at the party was the same one who the thief spoke to on the roof. That only left one other person he knew of. “Wait, _ three ways _ ? You actually paid that Jackson guy - the same one who double crossed you?” 

“I know, I know. But, it’s complicated.”

“You're a loyal friend to have, Stiles.” Derek says in awe.

“Yeah right.” Stiles mutters. A dark, downcast look overtakes the thief’s features. 

“It's true. As someone who doesn't have many you’re a good one to have.” Stiles smiles at the compliment but Derek can easily see it is for show.

“What do you plan on doing now that this is over?”

“Is that you asking me on a date? Kidding.” Stiles’ heartbeat skips indicating a lie. “Anyway, I uh, um I have a new job lined up and then it’s a normal life for me. Or as normal as I can get knowing there are friggin' werewolves out there.” Stiles snorts.

The thief doesn’t sound too keen on returning to his criminal career. And once again Stiles’ scent keeps switching on the fly from relaxed to melancholy. Derek’s powers may be diminished at the moment but sitting close next to Stiles and the intensity of the thief’s emotions makes it noticeable to detect.

But before Derek can comment on Stiles’ mood, the thief shifts the focus of the conversation onto Derek.

“So you really don't have anyone?” Stiles asks.

“Not really, no. But it's better this way.”

“Better for who?” Stiles debates. “Certainly not you. Or the people you're protecting if you have no one watching your back. I mean, even someone as wonderful and talented as me -- I still need help. You can't do everything on your own.”

“I do have my uncle...when he’s not blowing through his savings on his hedonistic lifestyle. And I have you. I mean, for a modest fee.” Derek jokes, but it leads to the opposite effect intended on Stiles. Never claiming to have a speciality with tact, Derek bulldozes ahead into what was weighing on his mind since Stiles came through the door. “What the hell is wrong with you? Your emotions are all over the place. You’re fine one second and depressed the next. What is it?”

“I… I think this is one problem greasy goodness can’t fix right now.” Stiles laughs but it comes out more ragged and broken than the thief probably intended. “You know what’s wrong with me? I am stone cold sober. Pop that cork and have a drink with me.” Stiles claps his hands and then rubs them together.

If Stiles wants to avoid talking about his feelings then Derek is fine to accommodate. It isn’t exactly an area of the werewolf’s expertise.

~+~+~+~+~+~

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you're actually swinging from a chandelier. Sia would be so proud.” Stiles laughs looking upon the werewolf high on the light fixture.  

With a flip, Derek dismounts to the ground in front of Stiles with perfection. “A dare is a dare. So don't plan on playing if you are not ready to go all in.” Derek gazed into Stiles’ eyes with not so hidden purpose. 

“Uh, are you usually this...um,” their proximity and Derek's intense stare is muddling Stiles' usual motor mouth. “Are you usually so… happy when you drink?”

“I am when there’s a reason to celebrate and someone to celebrate with.” Derek tries to go in for a kiss, feeling loose and relaxed with the security of knowing there is nothing to fear at the moment. And the bottle he polished off helps too. He wants to continue their flirtation and expand it into something more. But Stiles doesn’t seem to be in the same state of mind when the thief ducks out of the way.

“Hey, uh, Der. You know how I never told you about Scott’s job...” 

“Yeah.” Despite his answer Derek feels himself shaking his head at the question. He’s more focused on Stiles’ tongue darting out to lick his lips. The werewolf is confused by Stiles’ nervousness around him after he was so bold and forward on the roof. It seems Stiles is truly different without the mask.

“Okay, so...he’s a veterinarian.”

The new information removes Derek out of his thought process. “You took me to an animal doctor? Me, a werewolf? To a guy who fixes puppies and...other stuff with four legs?” Derek stares blankly at Stiles, head slightly bobbing with instability.

“Yeah, Derek, you are officially drunk. One more drink and you are done for the evening.”   
~+~+~+~+~+~

“Wire...” Derek pauses then shakes his head. Apparently Derek translates a drink as another bottle. “Why you not drinking more? You should drink more.” The werewolf pushes Stiles’ half full glass closer towards the thief. “Afraid the big bad wolf will take advantage?”

“I've give you the big part,” Stiles traces a finger down Derek’s arm, reminding Derek of the masked version of Stiles. “But you're about as bad as a stuffed wolf toy.”

“Ya know, I've never been with a werewolf before.” Derek admits, even though he’s not sure why.

“Really? That makes two of us.” Stiles responds around the rim of his glass.

“Always been drawn to humans.” Derek whispers huskily, eyes concentrated on the moles sprinkled along the side of Stiles' neck. He moves in slow enough for Stiles to protest and by the time Derek makes it to the jugular with no interruption he begins slowly kissing and sucking the dotted skin. Derek has been ready for the moment, knowing where he wants to taste and touch to see how well it matched with his fantasies.

“Derek, stop.” Stiles weakly demands. 

“Why? I can smell how much you want me.”

“Okay, don't listen to my body, listen to my words. We can't... I can't.”

Derek brings his head back far enough to look Stiles in the eyes. “Because imma werewolf?” Derek pouts. Stiles isn’t like that, right? He isn’t like the Argents who hate people for being different.

“No!” Stiles sighs and then downs his drink, wincing at the burn. “We're not in the right state... it isn't the right time.”

“Okay.” Derek accepts soberly. “One last kiss though?”

“Sure, big guy.” One kiss turns into a press of bodies, tangling two sets of thighs and arms, and brings them to breathless pant once they part. “I shoulda set a limit for that one last kiss.” Stiles plants his palms on Derek’s heaving chest. To Derek's great disappointment he and Stiles managed to stay upright while they made out.

“You want me.” Derek whispers into Stiles' ear before descending on the thief's neck once more. Derek wants more but settles on stroking his thumbs on the exposed skin of Stiles’ waist. From the feel of Stiles’ fingers carding their way in Derek’s hair, the feeling is mutual. It was nice being able to let his guard down with someone. Someone who might be able to understand him.

“Oh my god, I can’t think straight.” Stiles exclaims, wiping a hand over his face. “My brain is not working.” 

“So, what. I’m not after your brain right now.” The werewolf murmurs. 

“Okay, okay. Time out. Derek, we talked about this.” Derek makes a pitiful whine before dropping lightly on Stiles' thigh, missing the crotch inches away. Stiles comforts Derek by running his fingers through the alpha's hair. “Sorry, Derek.” The thief says quietly. 

“S'good. I think you ver right 'bout waiting. Feel weird...sleepy.” The werewolf slurs.   
“I really do like you, Derek. I hope you believe me.” Derek can hear the truth in Stiles’ voice that sounds disconcertingly sad.

“I'm glad I didn't strangle you, Stiles.” Stiles chuckles, Derek warms from the vibration caused by Stiles' laughter and knowing he was the one to produce it.

A soft peck on his temple was the last thing Derek felt before the alcohol saps the last of his energy and he falls asleep in Stiles’ lap.


	2. The party is over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit on the short side. It was a lot longer but I figured I could crank out updates faster if I broke the chapter up.  
> I apologize for any mistakes. I kinda, a little, maybe rushed a bit in my excitement to keep the story going.

It is the second time that night the werewolf awakes groggily - alone once again. At least, Derek is pretty sure it’s still the same night. His sense of time isn’t too reliable presently. The sunset he vaguely recalls during his drunken haze is now pitch black outside the window. A window that is much closer than it should be as lays nestled on the couch. Derek begins piecing together his last memories before he apparently blacked out. He remembers the alcohol… so much alcohol. He remembers Stiles… For all the drinking they did, the werewolf was still able to catalogue every sensation he felt with Stiles. The thief’s scent when Derek nuzzled his neck, the feel of soft skin under his shirt, the lingering taste of Stiles’ burger when they kissed. Suddenly, a shiver runs down Derek’s spine as he thinks back to the distinct lack of alcohol on Stiles’ breath when their tongues were intertwined. Too inebriated and overwhelmed to think anything of it at the time. 

Then, an another cause for alarm came when Derek turns his face from the uncomfortable texture of the leather seat he was laying on. His couch wasn’t leather. As much as the werewolf loves his leather jacket, he doesn’t care for relaxing on chair made of it. This isn’t his couch. This isn’t even his penthouse. His foggy mind clears enough, but not completely, to recognize the change of location. The back seat of a car.

The car door opens and two sets of hands harshly drag Derek from the backseat onto the cement ground on his knees. Derek’s instinct to fight back is hampered by the paralysis below his neck. 

“Well if isn’t the felonious Fox and my special guest, Derek Hale. The infamous Alpha werewolf that has been a constant thorn at my side. Pleasure to meet you finally.” A woman’s voice greets. Derek’s eyes are hooded under the strain of bright florescent lights as he tries to see who is talking but his ears worked perfectly and recognizes the heartbeat of the man Derek thought he could trust. Derek wants to respond, to howl out or something, but along with his eyesight, his mouth isn’t cooperating either. 

That is until a swift, hard blow comes to the side of his face.

“Pain is usually trigger for his kind. And I would like Mr Hale to be a bit more lucid during this oh so juicy part.” Derek hears the woman coldly says as he concentrates on mentally dulling the throbbing pain from the hit. It had to have been some type of melee weapon.

Once his vision comes back into focus, the Alpha can see a baseball bat gripped in a man’s hand. “Kate Argent - I presume.” Derek surmises once he takes a good look at the woman standing in front of him. The werewolf recognizes her from the detailed accounts of the rare few werewolves that escaped her wrath. “I would shake your hands but…” The two grunts that pulled Derek out of the car - fixing the incorrect memory of a couch - are holding the Alpha securely by the arms and shoulder. Even protracting his claws isn’t option for Derek under the effects of whatever is done to him. The alcohol would’ve lowered his defenses but not to this point where he felt immobilized.

“That is quite alright. We will have plenty of time to introduce ourselves more... intimately.” The way Kate looks at him makes Derek’s skin crawl, that much he can still feel. “But you already know this person. Or maybe not as well as you thought, huh.” Kate beckons someone over with a gesture of her hand. 

Another face comes into view beside her. A familiar one to Derek and one he hardly recognized anymore. “So this is the other job?” He asks rhetorically to Stiles.

“Another correct one, Derek. For a guy who seems so smart you really made a huge mistake tonight.” Kate taunts, humor seeping nauseatingly out of her mouth.

But Derek can’t care less about her gloating behaviour. He just stares emotionless at Stiles, wanting for the thief to explain himself. He doesn’t expect much since Stiles won’t even glance in the werewolf’s direction.

“You know, the fox is thought of as a trickster in many different lores. Interesting name choice.” Kate directs toward Stiles, then refocuses back to Derek. “And you. Out done by a mere human. You're giving werewolves a bad name. Hmm. Or a worse one, I should say.” Kate laughs along with the men behind her. She radiates satisfaction with every sentence as she stands over Derek. If he only had an ounce of his former strength maybe it would be enough to shut her up permanently.

“See, Mr Hale… that is the thing about thieves… they can always be bought. Speaking of which, if you want to check on your… payment, it's in the van.” Kate hands over car keys to Stiles while she’s given a flash drive from thief. Derek can hear the faint tone of a heartbeat inside. Possibly the driver?

“Scan the werewolf for trackers and verify the drive.” Kate orders to her minions. 

“I'm hurt, don't cha trust me?” It’s the first time Derek hears Stiles speak. Hearing the thief’s voice somehow makes the situation more real.

“Ask dear Derek here about what trusting you results in.”

“It's clear, Ms Argent.” A large man informs after he finishes waving a metallic wand over Derek and giving the werewolf’s body a thorough checking, while another closes a laptop with a confirming thumbs up.

“Good, come along Derek we have so much to do.” She says calmly as if Derek has any choice in the matter. Howling for help comes to mind. But who does Derek have to help him? The amount of men Kate has, with the addition of their armament, does not bode well for any werewolves answering the call.

“Are you sure you want him? He's kind of a grump… and pretty temperamental. Just ask the wall in my kitchen.” Stiles quips.

“Goodbye, Mr Fox. And for your sake I pray we don't meet again.”

“That won’t be a problem. I think I’ll go visit a certain millionaire's penthouse, pretty sure no one will be around to care if I help myself to a few things.” The thief keeps the trend of smart remarks going. 

Kate slows her stride toward the luxury car parked beside the van. “Until I give my men the clear, it would be best if you stayed here Mr Fox. You know, in case you have any second thoughts.”

Everything was so close to ending. The constant threat of the Argents hunting down werewolves was about to be neutralized with the new info acquired. All of those hopes are crashing down around Derek as he’s hauled off into the trunk of a van then injected heartlessly with a syringe. Knowing that his end is near, Derek’s last thoughts are a swirl of memories. Derek’s parents kissing his forehead and assuring he had nothing to be afraid of as they tucked him into bed. A young girl flashing bright gold eyes and an even brighter smile, beyond grateful to be safe with her family. His uncle hugging him after his parents’ funeral, telling him that they will always be remembered. And a thief kissing him on a rooftop to seal a deal - a very temporary deal. 

There truly is no honor among thieves Derek has learned the hard way. And it appears to be the last lesson he will ever have the chance to learn before Kate is done with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger! Poor Derek...


	3. Always bet on red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild consent trigger warning.

Derek is getting sick of waking up to strange, new surroundings. He’s had to some time clear that the fog in his head that he felt when he awoke in the car. However, this time no chances are spared with Derek like the car. They have him chained up with his arms suspended high in the air and feet shackled to the floor in a bare, windowless room with wall to ceiling dark concrete. 

Kate and two of her men stood in front of the werewolf. “You know I wouldn’t be so upset with your fox friend. Former friend, I should say. In this day and age of technology, he should have been more careful about who he disclosed his name to.” Kate shows a photo of Stiles and Derek standing close, some might say intimately, posing for a picture. 

A shadow of guilt blankets over Derek as he remembers how Stiles scolded Derek for giving away his name so freely. Stiles had been so worried about saving Derek’s life, the thought of anyone tracking them didn't cross their mind. But even if the thief was coerced into helping Kate, Stiles should have came to him. Stiles should have known that he could trust Derek by now. Of course Stiles being coerced is the best case scenario. Stiles may have easily struck a deal with Kate for more money, double crossing the werewolf. The thief did mention how the money won’t go too far after his debts. Not that Stiles’ reasonings make much of a difference right now anyway. Derek is trapped and Kate won at the end of the day no matter the answer.

“You two look quite cozy together. I would have never guessed of all people Derek Hale of renowned Hale Enterprises is not only a werewolf but the Alpha that’s been sabotaging my operation for months. Your name is attached to almost every business in Beacon City so I thought little of it when the whereabouts of the werewolves in hiding was found in one of your buildings. Life is full of surprises… but I guess I don’t need to tell you that, right?” Kate laughs.

“Do you plan on torturing me? Or are you going to talk to me to death?” Derek challenges, pulling at the chains with all the strength he has left which doesn’t amount to anything but a rattle.

“In due time.” Kate ignores Derek’s attempt at defiance. An easy thing to do when you have the upper hand. She comes to stand too close for Derek’s comfort, her nauseating scent filling his nostrils. If only Derek had the rest of his supernatural abilities in tact. “There’s other things I can do to you, Derek. Call it mercy before your demise.” Kate bends down and slowly licks up from Derek’s exposed abs to the center of his rib cage. “Is this what that thief did to lower your defenses?” She asks rhetorically. 

Even if it isn’t rhetorical Derek has no intention of answering the woman leering across the expanse of his chest. 

“Or maybe he did this…” Her hands begin to massage Derek’s thighs. And that is the last straw as Derek bellows out a mighty roar that reverberates the surrounding area, startling the men behind Kate to raising their guns in fear. But the woman herself doesn’t so much as flinch back. 

“You were always, always so careful.” Her cold fingertips trail the werewolf’s lips that press firmly in disgust. “He is cute.” Kate continues to converse one-sidedly, mostly to hear herself talk. “No shame in falling for a pretty face. You are man, after all. Add being a werewolf then...you were always doomed to fall prey to your basest instincts.” Derek grunts and snaps his teeth to bite the invasive finger grazing his fangs. Unfortunately, he misses.

“Charming…” Kate says unimpressed. She stares deep into Derek’s eyes searching for something Derek isn’t sure of. But she finds it, whatever it is, as she harshly grabs Derek’s face. “Ah. Contact lens... So that's how you did it. Very clever. My researchers figured out that werewolves can't photograph without distorting the picture.”

“Turn on the shock collar. His wolf is starting to show.” After her order, one of the guards flicks a switch on a circuit breaker on the wall. Derek fights not to show the pain he feels as electricity shoots hot and sharp throughout his body. He can feel his fangs retract, growing weaker by the second.

“I have to admit you quite the specimen, Derek. Beautiful really.” Kate sighs with a pout. “I’d love to stay and play but I have a schedule to get back on track. I will see you later.” Kate promises and moves to leave with her guards.

After guards move toward the door, Derek sees a video camera trained on him in the middle of the room. Kate taps on the device, seeing it has Derek’s attention. “Be a good boy or my boys will see and will release the wolfsbane gas into the ducts. Not that you’re going anywhere with that collar.”

\-------------------

Derek's labored breathing is the only thing he hears for so long in the empty room that his head snaps up when he hears the sound of rattling in the air ducts. Derek grimly considers his sadistic kidnappers might be pumping wolfsbane smoke spray through the vents for the hell of it. He doesn’t expect humane treatment from these people

A grate fell to the ground from the ceiling and shortly after, a figure cloaked in dark clothing, a mask, and a dark red hood drops down with a quiet click on the floor. There was no mistaking who that agile body belonged to. 

“I thought I put all this vent crawling behind me.” The thief wipes off the dust from his clothes. 

Yep, that is definitely Stiles, Derek thinks.

Stiles has a camera in hand framing Derek in the lens. “Show me that beautiful smile.” A flash of light flickers despite the full blown glare directed at the camera. A picture ejects from the camera, a Polaroid Derek recognizes, and Stiles begins waving it in small motions.

“Sorry, my tech guru is basking in the beauty of Oahu. So, I’m stuck with my own meager talents.” 

Derek watches with curiosity as Stiles moves to the video camera propped on a tripod. Its position is trained solely on Derek and doesn’t catch the thief assembling the picture in front of the lens. 

“Lucky for us they’re using some pretty low tech surveillance equipment here. I guess when you have an underground base ya gotta cut corners in certain places.” Stiles relays as he walks up to the bounded werewolf at an easy, slow pace that contrasted with the urgency of the situation. The thief bows once he stands in front of Derek. “Please hold all applause. Not that clapping is an option for you right now.”

The werewolf hasn’t said a word yet. Half because of exhaustion from the electric current flowing through his neck. And the other half in utter disbelief, not from Stiles coming back but the flippant attitude Stiles is showing after he left Derek to these bigots.

Stiles touches the collar around Derek’s neck, the shock cause him to snatch his hand back. The thief looks at Derek with sad eyes, Derek can see even with the mask on. Learning his lesson, Stiles carefully hovers his hands over the chains - alternating his attention from Derek’s arms and legs to the small circuit breaker feeding electric currents. 

“Sorry. I would’ve been here sooner but I made wrong turn and couldn’t exactly ask for directions. Though there was a particularly friendly rat following me --” The thief attempts to fill the tense, silent air with humor. 

Derek interrupts shortly. “Any day now, Stiles.”

“Easy, my furry friend. There's a lot going on here.” Stiles scratches his head as he takes a step back to look at the whole puzzle. “I guess she really didn't want to let you go. Aw, I think someone has a crush on you.” 

Derek’s stomach turns when he thinks how right Stiles is after the licking she gave him.

“Sure, I'll be sure to ask to if she ‘like likes’ me more than a friend before she has me staring back at my own insides.” Derek rants. The werewolf’s glowering at the thief stops when he hears the satisfying click of his locks releasing. And an exhale leaves Derek’s lips as feels the electricity cut short.

Stiles escorts Derek to the door. Placing his weight on Stiles as he limps forward reminds Derek of his bullet wound, back when he fully trusted Stiles. 

“Okay, I'm gonna need you use those big, strong arms to rip the control panel off by the door then I can rewire it. Pretty sure you won't be able to fit in the vents even if I could get you up there.” Stiles pulls on Derek’s arm from slipping off his shoulder.

“I can't, Stiles.” Derek haggardly expressed.

“You having some performance issues? Kinda young to be dealing with that, aren't you?”

If Stiles wasn’t actively keeping from Derek collapsing on the ground, the werewolf would have pushed him into the wall, hands gripping his stupid throat. “Don’t you think if I had my strength I could have broken out from those chains? Kate literally zapped my energy when they were electrocuting me.”

Stiles looks away in guilt. “Derek, I-I… I am --” The thief is struggling and stumbling over his words. A first for Derek to see Stiles having communication problems.

“You did make a plan B, didn’t you?” Derek interrupts, figuring Stiles is trying to say how sorry he is. But right now any apology will feel inadequate after serving Derek on a platter to people who want to carve up him like a turkey.

“Um, well… I'm making one right now. Remember I’m good at this.” Stiles drops his attempt at an apology to try providing an optimistic outlook.

Stiles carefully deposits Derek to the ground and begins to survey the area. Stiles smoothes a hand over the shutter door blocking them from escape. “Hm. Standard key card lock on the door, tight security too. No fire alarms to override the door. Damn. And might I add, a really dangerous oversight on their part. Just cutting corners everywhere.”

Derek closes his eyes tightly, hating what he's ready to say. “You have to leave me, Stiles.”

Stiles’ eyes turn wild as he turns his head to Derek. “What?! No, are you crazy?! They’ll kill you!”

Derek must be crazy if he’s willing to put his life in Stiles’ hands after everything. But it isn’t exactly like he has a choice.

“You already said it. I won’t be able to fit in the vents. Besides, whatever Kate has planned for me I don’t think is due for a while so you have some time.”

Stiles stands there weighing his options and reluctantly agrees with the werewolf. “I hate to say this but if we’re going through with this plan I need to put you back... I have no idea how long it'll take to swipe a keycard. And if someone comes in before I get back…” Stiles leaves the obvious unsaid.

Derek nods his head in understanding.

The thief fastens Derek back to his bindings but keeps the collar disabled. “I promise I will get you outta here, Derek.” The corner of Stiles’ lips turn up as he fastens the last of the chain straps. “You can bet on it, big guy.”

Derek can hear that at least Stiles believes his own convictions. It puts Derek mildly at ease. He only hopes that Stiles can get him out of here without being put in a body bag and sent to the morgue.


	4. good news, bad news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update!

**Bad news:** Stiles does not make it back in time before someone checks in on Derek. 

**Good news:** the lone guard does not notice the disconnected wires from the collar to the electricity. 

Derek kept up a battered appearance with some heavy breathing and hooded eyes. Maybe if the werewolf escapes there alive he can quit his position as CEO and start a new career in acting. Of course Derek would never abandon his duties to his family's company, no matter how much it could wear him down.

**More bad news:** the guard looks pissed and has a baseball bat with him.

**Some good news:** The guy is a talker, much like Kate, taunting Derek about the pain awaiting his future when Kate came back to retrieve him. 

Derek could handle some falsely perceived gloating. 

**Even more bad news:** The guard works himself up into a rant yelling at Derek about the ‘good’ men lost to animals like him. One of which was the guard’s brother. The dire fate promised by Kate for Derek wasn’t soon enough for the guard. The more the guard talks the angrier he gets until he resembles a rattling lid ready to erupt atop a boiling pot. His knuckles were turning white from the tight grip on the baseball bat in his hand.

Derek wishes there was more good news.

The guard swings the baseball bat that taunted the werewolf throughout the rant. Unfortunately, the muted scream Derek stifles in his clenched jaw was not his great acting skill. He definitely felt - and heard - a crack to the side of his torso. It didn’t help that his arms are hanging above his head, stretching out his body and increasing the pain. He held it together though by concentrating on breathing through his flared nostrils. The explosion of pain died down as Derek forces himself to adjust. 

The guard rotated his shoulders and readied himself to take another swing. Despite the impending doom, a smile blossoms on Derek’s face.

“What are you smiling at,  _ animal _ ?” The guard snarls.

“I don’t know, try asking the guy behind you.” Derek gloats, looking over the guard's shoulder.

The torturer has his baseball bat grabbed from behind but was determined not to let go. He spins around coming face to face with a masked man. He spent enough time with Kate to know this was the kid who helped them capture the alpha freak. The guard knew it was a mistake to trust a filthy, honorless thief. Both men are locked in a tug of war battle for the bat, holding opposite ends of the weapon. 

The torturer is steadily gaining the upper hand, the bat coming closer to him. Once again thinking the ball is in his court, the guard has the wind knocked out of him when the bat is tilted at an angle then shoved in his throat as he pulls. As he grasps on his bruised windpipe, the cement floor is the last thing he saw before feeling a hard hit to the side of head followed by darkness.

“Down you go,” comes from the returned thief.

\--

“Are vents ever secured? If I ever have my own facility first thing I’m installing are motion sensor alarms in the air shafts.” Stiles says as he frees Derek once again. "Hey, these chains give you any fun ideas for later?” Stiles waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“If you mean using them around your neck then you must be a mind reader. I'm sure that talent will look great on your resume with the stealing and double crossing. Or is triple crossing? I really can't keep up anymore.” Derek fumes, radiating anger.

“Aren't you full of sunshine…”

Derek massages his wrists where he was cuffed to the ceiling and the thief notices how the bruise on the side of Derek’s torso isn’t vanishing like he's seen before. The humor dies out in Stiles' eyes.

“That looks bad. Are you okay?” 

“Now you care about me?”

“Derek… I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.”

“Save it. Let's get the hell out of here already.” 

“Pump the brakes for a second,” Stiles says to halt Derek motion for the door. “I need our friendly neighborhood torturer to get us out of here.”

“If you couldn't find a key card then why did you come back?” 

“Well… I had another idea. But thankfully I won't need to now.” Relief floods through the thief's voice for a reason Derek doesn't know why. Even with the mask on, Derek didn't miss how Stiles’ eyes wince at mere mention of the backup plan. Speaking of which…

“What’re you wearing the mask for? They already know who you are.” Derek asks as he watches the thief rifle through the pockets of the downed guard.

“It's my signature, I’d feel naked without it. By the way you might wanna wear this.”

Derek took the guard's shirt offered to him by the thief. “Stiles. This, no fit.” The werewolf pulls on the button shirt for emphasis showing how both sides can only come together to button at his belly button.

“Dude, this isn't a department store. If it was my choice you wouldn't be wearing a shirt or much else.” Stiles mutters. Anyway, thanks for the clothes and the key card Mister,” Stiles reads the name on the card. “His name is Eugene? Oh man, no wonder the guy has serious rage issues if he grew up with that name.”

They have what they need to escape but Derek can tell Stiles is stalling. Something weighing on the thief. Of course there would be more bad news. “Stiles… what's wrong?”

“I need to show you something.” Derek is handed over Polaroid pictures. The few pictures he goes through depict the opened bodies of shifted werewolves - there were even children. He knew what she was capable of but seeing it with his own eyes… Derek shoves the pictures into Stiles’ chest, not wanting to see the horrors any longer.

“You see what you did, Stiles! Do you?! You gave the devil keys to kingdom! And this is what she has planned!” Derek's crimson red eyes burn a hole through Stiles’ own wet ones.

The thief shrinks into himself, shuffling the pictures in order to put them away. “Derek, I am so sorry.”

He doesn't say a word in response. The werewolf looks past Stiles’ shoulders to the door waiting for him to take the hint and unlock the exit so they can leave this torture room. Although from the pictures Derek just saw, this room wasn't close to the torture other werewolves had endured. She will pay for what she has done and what she plans to do. Derek will make sure of it. That was the good news. And he will enjoy making her suffer.


	5. foxhole

During his failed recon for a keycard to Derek’s room, Stiles was able to canvass the layout of the facility. With Stiles’ knowledge and the radio stolen from the incapacitated guard allowing them to remain a step ahead of the guards’ movements, it is relatively easy leading Derek to the exit through the maze of corridors and stairwells.

Their path to freedom leads them into a darkened lab unoccupied by any of Kate’s people. It was where Stiles took the pictures of the tortured werewolves. To Stiles’ dismay, going through here is the only way to escape the facility without being discovered. Multiple guards are stationed at every main exit and a creative alternative is needed.

The thief detects Derek’s realization of where they are as the werewolf sniffs the air in repulsion. No doubt smelling the heavy dose of death permeating around them. The deceased werewolves are all zipped up in body bags lying on medical stretchers but the sealed bags apparently does not hide their scent. Derek growls lowly as they continue to trek in the graveyard that Kate calls a research lab. 

An observation deck above overlooks the room, sealed from this area like a skybox and is darkened like the research lab. The observation deck is probably used by Kate to get her rocks off as she watches the mutilation of Derek’s species without a worry for her safety if the shallow claw slashes at the window above are any confirmation for Stiles’ theory. With Stiles’ infrared mask, another reason he chose to don his Crimson Fox outfit, he can see an assortment of medical equipment and glass jars containing things Stiles will be haunted by for years to come.

He wants to apologize to Derek profusely. But he knows Derek is in no mood to hear it with so much of Derek’s self-perceived failure surrounding them. If Stiles didn’t feel so guilty for double-crossing him, he would tell Derek that he shouldn’t feel any sort of failure if any werewolves were saved from this fate. That the kids Derek once told Stiles about owe their lives to him and he should be proud of that. But he didn’t have the right to try and comfort Derek, that was a privilege he lost when he gift wrapped Derek into that monster’s bloody hands. No matter his plan to come back for Derek.

The observation deck comes closer into view as does the exit to Stiles’ alternate exit. The pair come to an abrupt stop when the lights spring to life and brighten every corner of the research lab and the observation deck overhead.

“So was this your big plan, Mr Fox?” Kate's slimy voice blares through speakers surrounding the large room causing Stiles and Derek to look around for the source. 

Their eyes come across a figure above in the observation deck waving their fingers. Kate. Shit. She obviously caught on to the fact they stole a radio from one of the guards. How else would she know not to announce herself to her men over the connection?

Not needing to remain quiet, Derek releases the pent-up roar of anger that he wanted to yell out when he discovered the nature of this room. 

She continues. “I did expect more from you, thief. I’ll tell you what since you bagged me an alpha… a highly prominent one at that. I will grant you one last chance.”

Stiles doesn't hesitate to respond to Kate's offer. “Not a fucking chance!”

“Strike three, Mr Fox. Take him out, boys. Avoid the brain and heart when dealing with the werewolf. We still need him.” She commands coldly. A throng of marching feet stomp down the staircase from the observation deck where Kate is holed up leading to the two escapees.

Several men wearing protection pads suited for riots with military automatic guns stand in formation with sights set on Stiles and Derek. They stand diligently waiting for Kate's signal. 

The werewolf and the thief were so close to fleeing the facility successfully.

“Are you still willing to stand by the animal, Mr Fox? He's fast but even he can't dodge this many bullets and protect you at the same time.”

“You want an animal? I'll give you an animal!” Derek threatens and splays out clawed fingers, his stance in battle-ready form. Clearly, the big bad werewolf has his powers back in action.

“Didn't anyone ever tell you not to bring claws to a gunfight? Men, fir--”

“Wait!” Stiles shouts, cutting off Kate's command.

“Decided to change your mind?” Stiles can hear the wide smile in her voice.

“I do have one more thing for you I forgot to give…” Stiles pulls out his phone from his vest pocket of his costume. “Lights out, bitch.” With a press on the screen, the entire room goes pitch black once again.

Was this the backup plan Stiles had in mind? Derek considers as he instinctively covers Stiles again like at the party and pushes him down to the ground before a stream of bullets can fly to their position. Even with the thief's betrayal, Derek still feels a need to protect Stiles. He could have just left the thief to defend himself. Who was Derek kidding? Of course he couldn't. It was just some residual bitterness from the thief’s betrayal.

“Stay down, Stiles!” Derek orders over the gunfire.

The thief does as told, planting himself to the floor and covering his head with his arms. He feels the heavy, comforting frame of Derek's warm body leave. All that can be heard by the thief is carnage. Stiles can barely see anything from his position even with his infrared mask.

Derek unleashes another roar echoing intensely over the sounds of flesh tearing, bones cracking, guns firing, and men screaming out in pain and fear. The violent sounds diminish and Kate can be heard yelling at her lackeys to hurry with the power. 

Lights re-illuminate the room in a more limited capacity, clearly running on backup emergency power. 

Stiles lifts his head up. 

There are about a dozen men all in bad shape on the ground, alive but incapacitated with grave injuries ranging from bleeding heads and legs to twisted limbs. Stiles notices that along with the broken henchmen, there are broken weapons scattered around as well. Good thinking. Even one of those wolfsbane bullets would put them at a serious disadvantage.

“Damn, Derek.” Stiles breathes out in astonishment. He knew the werewolf was powerful but he had never seen this level of carnage. “You really are a beast…” He states with no disgust or fear in his voice.

Unfortunately with the lights restored came the restoration of the speakers. Kate's voice once again fills the lab. “Can't you see, Mr Fox? Look at their kind, what they are capable of. We need to protect ourselves, enhance ourselves if we can survive.” Kate speaks on behalf of the human race. Funny how Stiles didn’t recall asking her to mutilate and murder a species out of fear.

“Oh yeah? How about you come down here so I can enhance your face with my foot.” Stiles taunts as he picks himself from the floor. With the threat eliminated there was no reason to stay on the ground. 

Another voice, male, could be heard in the background of the speakers. “Ms Argent, we can’t get into the armory room on the emergency power.”

“Do I look like I care?! You still have the electric batons, I want the thief eliminated and Derek recaptured!” Kate spits out, her frustration over the situation causes her to forget she still has the intercom system active. “Better yet…” Is the last thing heard before the sound cuts out.

Stiles couldn't be more grateful that guns are off the table for the reinforcements. He really didn't care for being on the sidelines waiting helplessly for the battle to be over, especially since he wanted payback of his own. “Ready for another fight, big guy?” Stiles twirls his bat with expert handling.

Kate clears her voice. “Since you were so kind to give me a gift, Mr Fox. Let me extend the favor to you…” She says ominously.

The ground shakes suddenly. The scalpels and other medical equipment on the metal slabs clang from the vibration. Distant stomping grows louder as the unseen cause approaches the werewolf and the thief. A pounding slam jostles the two men. Then with another slam, the door where Kate’s men came from erupts from its hinges and flies across the room. 

Stiles covers his head even though the door’s trajectory was nowhere near him. “Wha! What the hell did that?!”

His question is answered as a behemoth of a man has to duck under the door’s frame to enter, vibrating the floor with heavy footsteps that can’t be natural. Its massive biceps are wider than its head, with a body towering well over the two men, and its eyes are dead set on Derek and Stiles as its intended targets.

“For fuck’s sake, are we in a comic book now?!” Stiles wails out, referring to the behemoth’s physique clad in only shorts resembling the Incredible Hulk.

“Still ready for a fight?” Derek inches backward, wondering who the beast in this fight really is. The big brute doesn’t move forward after entering the lab, much like Kate’s men, awaiting for further instructions.

Right on cue, Kate’s grating voice pumps through the sound system. “Meet my new creation to handle you freaks. The Berserker - a formidable juggernaut capable of handling any werewolf or pack we find.”

“How can you call werewolves ‘freaks’ and play Dr Frankenstein in your spare time?”

“These are modifications; necessary improvements. Not some unholy mix of man and beast like them.” So, this is what Kate meant when she talked about enhancing ‘ourselves’.

“He may be big…” Derek rotates his neck and extends his claws back out. “But I’m the Alpha. Let me handle this.” The shifted werewolf declares before moving forward with determination in every step to make the first strike before Kate can give the attack command to her newest pet.

Derek moves nimbly to avoid heavy swipes heading his way and slashes his claws at the berserker’s legs several times hoping to hobble the massive man. But it has no effect. The damage from Derek’s claws leave nothing more than light scratches equal to papercuts. Who knows how long it would take for any real damage to show, and the mighty werewolf is already feeling fatigued after his battle with Kate’s henchmen, and now dealing with this.

Stiles primes his baseball bat for a swing. He takes a running start and swings with all his might - ignoring Derek’s protesting in the background to stay back. But Stiles can’t sit on the sidelines watching Derek fight by himself, especially when he feels guilt betraying the werewolf.

Stiles strikes against the back of the berserker’s head while its attention is on Derek. It stumbles forward, slightly. Then quickly recovers to turn its head around to Stiles. The berserker grabs the front of Stiles’ clothes, who mutters “oh shit” at his failed attempt; it lifts and pulls the thief toward its snarling face. 

Coming face to face with the berserker, Stiles wonders if there’s still a person behind the volatile, pale eyes of the human experiment. But that question doesn’t stop him from brandishing his mini-taser, the same one from the party, and doles out an electric attack to the berserker’s temple. The shock causes a pained scream to erupt from the monstrosity. To protect itself, the berserker tosses the thief away like a ragdoll. Luckily, Stiles is thrown in Derek’s direction. Derek grabs the end of the bat to catch Stiles mid-air, still gripping onto the bat, and spins the thief around for momentum to fling him right back at the berserker - Stiles’s feet connecting right into the berserker’s face for a powerful hit. The force causes the massive man to lose balance and stumble back.

But the berserker is stubbornly recovering.

“If this is you handling things…” Stiles says under his breath. With everything they throw at the berserker, it still manages to recover.

“Shut up, Stiles.” Derek swiftly ducks a side swipe then trades a clawed swipe of his own, to little consequence to the berserker. “We need to cut our losses and run!” Realizing all attempts in battle are futile.

“Our exit is unfortunately not an option anymore after the big blackout.”

“Then why would you use it?!” Derek growls out as he keeps fighting the berserkers to keep its focus on him and away from Stiles.

“Do you remember the guys with guns aiming at us?” Stiles reminds.

Stiles stands helplessly in the background as Derek tries to stay a step ahead of the berserker’s attacks with perfectly timed dodges. He knows if the agile, strong werewolf can’t slow down the berserker then Stiles doesn’t stand a chance. The thief’s only effective attack, his taser, doesn’t have any power left. His use of the taser at the party really wore it out and he didn't have a chance to charge the battery beforehand - what with saving werewolves and all. The sly fox feels defeated having run out of tricks up his sleeve. The only thing left in his arsenal is… 

A thought sparks for a new action to take. Patting his vest, he silently thanks his preparedness for bringing what he needs. Stiles looks around for the next key to bring his new plan to fruition.

“Derek, I need you to distract him.” 

The huffing werewolf rolls away from an incoming attack, giving himself space between him and the berserker. “That’s all I’ve been doing since nothing is working.” Nonetheless, he continues as told.

“Even your treacherous friend knows this is a losing battle, Derek.” Kate states victoriously as she witnesses the thief running toward the entrance of the room, opposite of where the berserker and the werewolf engage in battle. Instead of ignoring Kate’s jesting, Derek uses her venomous voice to refuel his anger and push on to fight the seemingly indomitable foe.

“Okay, keep him still.” Stiles whispers, knowing the werewolf can hear. 

Derek feigns giving up in defeat, baiting the berserker for whatever Stiles has planned. 

“Finish him!” Kate demands. As the berserker gears up for a finishing blow, a grappling hook digs in the side of its face disrupting the action. 

Stiles uses his grappling gun to tie around a heavy looking medical equipment then locks the trigger to send it reeling at full speed towards the berserker like a wrecking ball. When the object collides, the berserker plummets backward into the sealed exit Stiles had originally planned to escape through, smashing the grate open with ease from its staggering weight.

The thief chuckles at the surprise in fortune and at Kate’s furious cursing. “I think that’s our cue to exit!” He yells out to Derek while racing to the opening that leads to a waterway, wanting to leave before any more experiments or armed grunts arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed. This one was a doozy to write. I think there were 7 total of rewrites, alternate endings, longer fights... Hopefully this is the best version. >_<  
> HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!


	6. out of the pan, into the fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year all!

Through the opening caused by the berserker’s crash, it was a straight shot for Stiles and Derek to the outside world using the waterway. The berserker had fallen into the deep trench of water, sinking to the bottom like a stone.

“With all of its enhancements, the bitch forgot to add buoyancy to the list.” Stiles had remarked. Who would have thought the towering terror’s greatest weakness would be swimming without a life preserver? But just in case, Stiles threw the last of his charge in his taser into the water. You can never be too safe, right?

Exiting out of the waterway, they cut across an empty, dark field running towards safety. Derek startles when a light appears out of nowhere shining bright in front of the pair. His eyes beam red ready to cut down anyone in their way. The light ahead is extinguished and Derek can make out the source. Headlights from a car. Not just any car… 

“You stole my car?” Derek asks indignantly when they pile in his car, as if that was the worst offense caused by the thief tonight. His annoyance heightens when he’s forced to sit in the back, not even able to drive his own car.

Derek gazes back at the place he was held captive through the rear window as the car speeds away on a dirt road. It looked like a decommissioned missile silo, a forgotten relic from Beacon City’s past. Soon the distancing facility wasn’t the only thing in his view. Kate’s men driving black SUVs are hot on their tail. Three by Derek’s count. Gunfire breaks through the back window, shattering the glass. Looks like she was able to unlock her armory after all.

Stiles shouts out to Scott to keep driving as the thief climbs to the backseat beside Derek. He digs under the seat for a bag Derek hadn’t noticed before then tosses it opened out the shattered back window. A moment later, the three SUVs following them with deadly intent are skidding out of control and crashing into each other, with one overturning completely. 

Tire spikes, Derek concludes. The werewolf has to admit Stiles is one hell of a sly Fox.

* * *

 

Their driver, Scott, comes to an easy stop at the place Derek recognizes as Stiles’ apartment officially ending their getaway. The rest of the ride was thankfully uneventful while also being tensely silent. Kate’s men were long out of sight once they made it to the highway and remained clear. 

“Scott. You did it, buddy. How's it feel being a badass?” Stiles claps a shoulder of his friend in celebration.

“Not so great.” Scott's odd voice made Stiles look at his friend with concern. “Something’s wrong… I think I’m hurt bad.”

Derek furrowed his brows. Could it have been one of the bullets from earlier? He doesn’t smell the metallic scent of blood. But Scott’s vitals are erratic. His breath shaky. His palms shaking now that he released the steering wheel. Perspiration.

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” Stiles moves forward in his seat to scan Scott for any wounds.

“It’s his adrenaline.” Derek answers for Scott taking in all of the symptoms that he remembers were there since the chase. 

Stiles breathes a sigh of relief.

“Is that what this is? I almost thought I was having a really bad asthma attack or something.” Scott breathes in deeply, relief flowing through him now that he knew it wasn’t anything serious.

Stiles whacks Scott upside the head. “Bro! You’re a trained medical professional! You didn’t know you having an adrenaline rush!” The thief falls back exasperatedly into his seat and wipes a hand over his face.

“I’ve never been shot at before, this is a very nerve-wracking experience.” Scott defends himself.

“Well, you did great. That’s twice I owe you, Scott. Thank you again.” Derek says gratefully.

“I’m gonna go get some stuff from my place then we can get back on the road to the safe house.” Stiles informs in a low voice before opening the car door. It stings knowing he won’t be receiving any gratitude from Derek, not that he deserves it.

Derek grabs Stiles’ shoulder from the backseat before the thief can exit. Before they go any further, Derek needs answers. One in particular. “Why did you do it, Stiles? Why did put everything I worked for at risk?”

“Um, maybe I should go up instead?” Scott suggests to the two some privacy. He could see Derek was not going to back down until Stiles explained everything and they all needed to get the hell out of dodge until things cooled down.

Scott left after Stiles told him what to grab with a confirmation from Derek that Stiles’s apartment is clear deeming it safe.

“Because of Scott.” Stiles answers the lingering question once he and Derek are alone. 

“What about him?” 

“They had him. Kate must’ve followed us or something from the party. She knew where Scott was and where I lived--” Stiles trails off, shaking his head at the mess he got them all in.

Derek shuts his eyes as he remembers something Kate showed him. “The picture at the party… It was my fault.” He admits. 

“No, Derek. This is all on me. If I hadn’t stolen from you in the first place…” 

Derek cuts in. “Then she would’ve sent someone else. Someone who wouldn’t have done everything you’ve done.” 

Stiles scoffs. “You mean putting everyone’s life in danger.” 

Derek didn't disagree. “Why didn’t you tell me, though? Stiles, I thought by now you knew I could be trusted.”

Stiles bit down on his lip and looked down at his lap. He did trust Derek but he had to make sure it looked real. But maybe they could have come up with something better if he confided in Derek.

Suddenly, an explosion violently shakes the streets around them and rips Stiles from his self-loathing. Car alarms blare from the parked vehicles up and down the road. People raise their windows to search for the source of the commotion.  

Derek recognizes the floor where the flames are flickering brightly out the window, the point of origin of the explosion. It was the same floor he made his way into and found the thief in nothing but a towel. And it was where the thief's best friend was heading toward. 

Both men flew out of the car to head into the flaming building. Stiles, screaming out Scott's name in a panic, followed closely behind Derek as the werewolf all but tackles fleeing residents out of the way while the pair make their way up the stairwell to the source of the fire. 

By some miracle, Scott was sprawled out on the floor outside of Stiles' apartment door. The front door had collapsed on top of Scott, laying unconscious. 

Flames spread into the hallway from the burning apartment, threatening to engulf Scott. Derek pushes Stiles back before collecting the injured man into his arms. The werewolf could hear a heartbeat from Scott. He rushes back to the stairwell but he stops in his tracks when his ears perk at a call in distress.  

“There's someone else here on this floor.” Derek relays his discovery.

Stiles nods in understanding.

Derek gives Scott to Stiles to take to safety.

The thief, not as strong, places his friend over his back. “Be careful.” Stiles says before coughing out the smoke beginning to fill his lungs. The air was billowing with thick black smoke fast. 

Derek watches briefly as Stiles carefully makes his way down with Scott as a backpack then proceeds to find the person crying for help. The werewolf busts down the only other door on the floor. He comes across an old woman desperately trying to move a fallen bookshelf off an elderly man. A quick observation of the man's hand reaching outward trying to crawl out and the woman's hand struggling to lift the bookshelf show matching wedding bands. Even as the apartment burns around them, the woman doesn't stop in her pursuit to free her husband. She startles as the heavy furniture is raised with ease then tossed to the side. Derek helps the man up on his feet as the cries out her gratitude for saving her husband. Even though are no injuries to the man, the collapsed bookcase pinning the man down surely made it hard to breathe and the woman had inhaled a great deal of the toxic fumes from exerting herself with the furniture. The werewolf assists the wheezing wife and husband out of the blazing structure with haste. Derek successfully helps the couple to the outside and doesn't stick around for continued thanks as he rushes back to his car. 

It was no more than a few minutes helping the married couple but Scott already sounds much worse than he did when they found him. Derek looks at Stiles to see red, tear soaked eyes. It must be Scott's asthma combined with the smoke inhalation. But there's also his head wound. Derek hadn't noticed the metallic tinge of blood in the air before because of the charring insides of the building. There’s so much trauma to Scott’s body, it hard for Derek to pinpoint the immediate cause of concern.

“I tried CPR but he’s not-- W-what do we -- I don't k-know what else to--” Stiles rakes his hand through his short hair, trying to stop his hiccuping stutter. “S-should we go to the hospital or, or, or wait for help?” 

“Stiles.” Derek's tone is enough to stop Stiles from whipping his head around from both ends of the street, no doubt searching for an ambulance. “This part of the city…” Derek isn't sure how long it would take for help to arrive especially in a bad neighborhood like this. Response times in these areas were never speedy and time was not on their side. “Stiles,” Derek repeats again. “I don't think he has enough time to wait.” 

Stiles' eyes widen in horror. “Please, heal him like you healed me!”

“That was a bruise, this is…” Derek focuses on Scott when he hears Scott's breathing becoming more shallow.

“I don't care! Fix him! You have to!” Stiles shouts. 

“I can take away his pain, maybe slow down the trauma but we need to get him to the hospital.”

Scott's heart is still slowing by the second. There continue to be no sirens in the distance from fire trucks or first response. Even they make it to the hospital there's no guarantee that Kate's people won't be there to finish the job.

There is still life in Scott, however faint, and where there's life - a chance is possible. 

“I have to turn him.” Derek decides after weighing the chances of help arriving and making it to a hospital in time.

“Turn him?” Stiles searches Derek's face for clarity. The flash of red in Derek’s eyes explain his meaning. “Into a werewolf?!” 

“He'll die without it, Stiles. He's dying right now.” 

Stiles nods erratically. “Fine, do it - do what you have to. He can't die. He just can't.”

Derek breathes deeply and sinks his fangs into the side of Scott's ribcage. The bite might work faster if it's closer to his heart. Scott's eyes squeeze harder closed from the new pain. It's a good sign that the bite is having an effect. Whether he'll live through the transformation however… only will tell.

  
  
  



	7. home safe home

Daybreak had long since shined rays of light down on the world but inside Stiles’ safe house it was dimly lit.

Stiles sat in a chair inside the dingy hideout, internally berating himself about why he didn't expect Kate to never plan on keeping her word. How could Stiles have believed she’d allow him and Scott to walk free if the thief gave Derek to her. Although, neither did Stiles plan on keeping his word and let her keep Derek. No doubt there are explosives set at Scott’s place if she was planning on tying any loose ends.

The thief at least had the good sense to warn his father before things went to hell to take himself and Scott’s mother into hiding. But Stiles hadn’t told him why. The thief was already at the edge with Scott’s grave injuries, he couldn’t handle telling the true nature of why everyone close to Stiles needed to crawl under a rock and stay put until it was safe. But he knew his father would piece it together, the man being long an upstanding sheriff in his hometown, Beacon Hills. Maybe when things cool down, Stiles’ dad would find humor in the irony of having a career criminal for a son.

_ Yeah right. _ Stiles isn’t in the best head space right now but even he isn’t delusional enough to think that.

Derek silently closes the door behind him where Scott is recuperating. Scott looked to be out of the woods. The bite helped to normalize Scott's breathing and seal his open head wound.

The werewolf watches Stiles leg bounce frantically, unaware of Derek’s presence. “Scott is going to be okay.” Derek says, hoping to put Stiles out of his misery.

“Are you sure? You're really sure?” Stiles asks nervously.

Derek nods solemnly.

Stiles relaxes in the chair but the scent of despair radiating off him doesn’t go unnoticed by Derek. “After everything I did… Scott still ends up paying for my mistakes. Even you did.”

“He’s not dead, Stiles.” Derek reminds.

The hideout is quiet but Derek can practically hear the gears turning in Stiles’ head. A swirl of negative thoughts and guilt. He knows because it’s the same thoughts swirling through his own head. Even though Derek had escaped Kate’s facility, she has the location of the werewolves hiding under his protection. And he has no way of getting it back hiding here.

“Why don’t you check up on him.”

Stiles takes Derek’s advice and quietly enters the room not sure if Scott was asleep. The thief thought he entered as silently as possible but his friend jostles and groggily turns his head toward the door.

“Hey,” Scott slurs.

It warmed Stiles’ heart to see his best friend in much better shape than he was when they first arrived at the safe house. He smiles as he moves forward at Scott’s side on the bed. “So I don’t know if you got the memo but you are officially a creature of the night.” 

“Does this mean I can never go out in the sunlight?” Sunlight or light in general seemed to be too much for Scott to handle at the moment as Scott squints his eyes under the dim lighting in the room.

“Wrong type of creature of the night, bro.” Stiles kisses Scott on the forehead. “Don't ever scare me like that.”

Thank Derek for me, will ya. And Selina too.”

Stiles’ brows knitted in confusion. “Your cat?”  _ Was Scott delirious from the bite? _

“Yeah… she saved me.” Scott smiles dopily.  _ Oh yeah he was delirious.  _ He continues, “I remember before I could fully open the door she purred behind me and I turned around…” Storytelling time had taken a toll on Scott and his eyes drifted closed.

If that really happened, it would explain why Scott didn’t have any burns and why the door collapsed on him. Selina was known to drop by Stiles’ place from time to time, prowling around the city without a care in the world. Stiles hoped the cat was more lucky than Scott had been and escaped the explosion. He didn’t recall seeing her anywhere during the explosion.

Stiles left Scott to rest. His friend may be in good health but he would still need to sleep his way to full recovery. He joined Derek in the small kitchen area, composed of a hot plate and fold out table with matching chairs. 

Once he sits across from the werewolf - the other werewolf, now that Stiles has more than one in his life - he slides a USB drive across the table.

Before Stiles had a chance to tell Derek about stealing the info back the explosion happened. Surprise takes over Derek’s face.

“We tracked your location through the drive I traded for Scott. Once inside, I was in close enough range to siphon the data back and a little extra from our good friend, Kate Argent.” Stiles explains.

The shock is so overwhelming that all Derek can do is nod in understanding. Everything he worked to protect was safe once again. His immediate thought was of his mother, Talia, and how he swore to her before she died to continue her legacy of protecting werewolves with their wealth and status. Relief flowed through him knowing he could keep his promise.

Derek almost misses what Stiles has to say as he recalls the prideful, loving look in her eyes when he made that promise. He misses her greatly… 

“Do you think we can start over after the dust settles? That we can try at something that doesn’t solely involve saving each other? I’d like that guy back who quoted a Disney movie to me.” Stiles ventures with cautious hope. He feels his heart pounding wildly in his chest as puts himself out for Derek to accept or reject.

“I don't know, Stiles.” Derek replies honestly, breathing out a tired sigh. “I was so angry with you but... the way I see things... if you hadn't been the one they hired, things could've been worse. Much worse. You decided to help me. Even if was because I offered you more money at first.” His lips upturned slightly.

An unexpected chuckle slips from Stiles’ lips.

“No matter the reason, Kate Argent has been stopped. For now anyway - crippled at the very least. And that's because of you. Thank you, Stiles. But--”

“I ruined it. Yeah…” Stiles interrupts, his fingers scraping against the crusted stain on the table. Food residue from the last time he was here conjuring a scheme for a heist. 

Derek changes the subject, still not sure how answer any question regarding a future relationship between the alpha and the thief. In his double leading lifestyle, he needed absolute trust with whoever he chose to live it with. But Stiles had shaken that trust before it could really form. “Does this  _ batcave _ have any other beds available?”

“Sure. There’s a pull out bed in Scott’s room that you can use. So do you think of my batcave anyway?” Stiles replies, wanting to keep a light tone.

“I wouldn’t be surprised to see actual bats around here.” It wasn’t a Disney quote but perhaps the batcave reference was Derek’s way saying there might still be a chance. Even if Stiles was grasping at straws for a sign the thought put a smile on his face. But it quickly downturned when he glances at Scott’s door.

“He'll probably never really forgive me for this…” He left out the word ‘either’. He has so much making up to do. Scott, Scott’s mother, his father, Derek… 

“He will.” Derek says with no hint of doubt in his voice before exiting into the room.

There was only way to show how truly sorry he was for everything and to hopefully put things right.

“Start from the beginning, Mister…?” The detective clicks his pen, ready to write down the response.   
“Stilinski. Stiles Stilinski.” The thief replies as he sits across the detective in the interrogation room at the Beacon City police department. “It began when I took a job by a woman named Kate Argent. She hired me to steal confidential information from Hale Enterprises. Then…”

A vibration in Stiles’ pocket halts him from spilling his guts. With no hesitation, Stiles presses the ignore button to the call he knew was coming from Derek. “Sorry, where was I? Oh right -- I pretended to work there for a few weeks…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> looks like red is the new black.   
> D:


	8. a thief's end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it people. The final chapter. The end.
> 
> Warning '10' has some mild smut (if you can call it that). It's not very graphic but forewarning and all.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. And thanks a million for sticking with this story.

Derek awakens refreshed and knows much time had passed from the heaviness his body feels that came from a deep, long sleep. The physical and emotional strain of the past night had taken a toll on the werewolf. And the future has many things needed to be resolved. 

The alpha werewolf now has a new beta, Scott, of his own making who will need support and training through the change. It will be much different than helping the omegas (pack-less werewolves - usually sole survivors) and the fractured packs Derek assisted throughout the years that sought safe passage away from hunters like Kate. Although, there were no other hunters Derek had faced like Kate. The woman who captured him had taken hunting his kind to a new level Derek had never thought possible. He still couldn’t believe the monstrosity he faced last night in the form of a genetically mutated behemoth. He truly hopes the Berserker hadn’t survived its fall in the deep water.

Derek swings his legs off the bed onto the floor, ready to figure out his next move. On the other side of the room, Scott was sleeping peacefully. There isn’t a full moon for another week, so the new beta werewolf will have time to adjust before Scott will feel the full effects of his new power. But Derek and Stiles couldn’t sit around to wait for Kate to make her next move. Derek needs to find out what’s on that flash drive Stiles stole from Kate’s facility. Maybe a weakness could be found to bring Kate to her knees for experimenting on his kind and put their hiding to an end.

Derek leaves the room in search of Stiles to borrow a laptop. He hopes the thief has one in this ‘batcave’ of his. But he has to find Stiles first. Derek listened in for another heartbeat other than Scott’s, which wouldn’t be hard in the small safehouse, and came up short. The thief was nowhere to be found. The only thing found of Stiles was the thief’s costume neatly stowed away on the couch.  Derek has sinking feeling in his gut. He knows Stiles hasn’t betrayed him like before. And that whatever he was doing wouldn’t involve his thieving ways since his costume and tools were here. Derek didn’t know whether that was good or bad. Because it meant Stiles is somewhere unprepared and unarmed.

Kate Argent is still out there scorned and vengeful while Stiles was by myself. Probably getting himself into trouble trying to fix this situation. The werewolf just knows it. Stiles was practically radiating intense waves of guilt when they last spoke.

What could he be up to that he wouldn’t tell Derek about?

Derek hears a phone ring from Scott's personal effects. Racing toward the sound, he hopes it will be Stiles when he answers since caller ID reads “blocked”.

Derek answers without a tentative hint in his voice even though he didn’t know who was on the other line. “Hello.”

“Who is this? Where is my son?” The voice answers back with a slight edge.

Derek looks down at Scott’s sleeping form.  _ Son?  _ This must be Scott’s father.

“Where’s my son?” The voice repeats after not receiving a response in a demanding tone. “Where’s Stiles?”

_ Wait… this is Stiles’ father? _

========2=========

_ “Four hundred and one. Four hundred and two. Four hundred and three.” _

**Four hundred and three.** That is the number of bars currently surrounding Stiles.

After the thief confessed to the robberies he committed, he was unceremoniously thrown into a jail cell with a few other criminals - all waiting to be transferred to a prison facility. Unfortunately, Stiles’ admission came during a Friday night and he wouldn’t be moved until Monday morning.

_ “One Mississippi. Two Mississippi.” _ The imprisoned thief now began counting how long would it take for the guard on duty to scratch his crotch again. The guy had to have something nasty brewing underneath his wrinkled, slightly stained uniform pants because the guy furiously raked his fingernails on his crotch every 3.5 minutes on average. 

It was currently a Saturday night and Stiles had clearly long since stopped finding way to pass the time that didn’t include guilting himself over everything that happened during the course of the week.

A week? A week since that moment on the rooftop of Hale Enterprises when Stiles decided to double cross his client, Kate Argent, to work for the man he was hired to steal from, Derek Hale. Hard to believe it was only a week with everything that’s happened so far. It was hard to believe Stiles had once used his criminal double life solely as a means to help those he loved. His father’s crushing debt. And Scott’s dream of becoming a doctor. It was hard to believe over time that stealing starting meaning more to Stiles. There was a sense of freedom he found in living on the wrong side of the law. It was exciting. It was where he felt he belonged after years of being an outcast in high school. But it was hard to believe where his thieving got him. Not jail - jail was always a possibility Stiles had in the back of his mind which is why he strived to be a master at his criminal profession. He never thought this life would lead to werewolves and having his loved ones hunted by a psycho xenophobe. Stiles always knew he would be the one to face the consequences of his actions. But that wasn’t the case in this unbelievable scenario. 

Stiles’ counting and continued guilt is halted when a new prisoner is escorted into the cage Stiles occupies with two other men.

The new guy looks like Stiles’ age and had a face that was ill suited to be behind bars. Not to mention the cardigan sweater the tall guy was wearing. Unlike Stiles whose own father had said there was always a mischievous glint in his eye from the time when he was a young boy. Even at an early age, Stiles had a penchant for finding trouble and usually, if not always, dragging Scott along for the ride. 

Stiles scoffs.  _ “Not much has changed,” _ he thinks mournfully. His best friend had almost died because of him. 

The thief sighs miserably. 

Was he going to constantly berate himself for however long his sentence would be? How long will he be sentenced anyway? He hadn’t confessed his entire criminal career, just enough to have Kate put away. And enough where there would be quite a few birthdays spent wearing an orange jumpsuit.

A voice ejects Stiles from his depressing thoughts. “What’re you in for?”

Stiles hadn’t even noticed the new guy taking a seat beside him on the bench. Even new guy’s voice didn’t fit here. It was kind. Getle. But Stiles knew well not to judge a book by its cover. How many of his classmates back home would ever imagine Stiles Stilinski as a career criminal? Well… his teachers and father’s coworkers probably. But not his classmates.

Stiles wasn't in a talking mood however. At least not talking out loud. He had his non stop guilt trip running loops in his head to keep him plenty occupied.

“I got caught stealing. Yeah.” New guy confesses.

Stiles took a quick glance at the new guy after hearing that. A fellow thief. Go figure. But despite their shared circumstance, Stiles is still in no mood to make a new friend.

“Not to brag but it was pretty epic. I stole a police horse and set it free.”

Stiles scrunches up his nose. “Why would you brag at that?”

New guy scoffs. “… like you could pull off something like that.”

“Well, not to brag,” Stiles mimics. “But I'm on another level. Like top of a skyscraper level which I happened to jump off once as an escape.”

“You can't be that great of a thief if you got caught.” 

“I didn't, I turned myself in.” Stiles didn't know why but he feels a need to protect his rep. After all it is a rep he spent a number of years crafting. Expertly.

“Hm. That was dumb.” New guy decides as his leans his head back on the bars behind.

Just as Stiles thought, never judge a book by its cover.  _ Sarcastic tall ass. _

“Does it seem dumb? Is that your astute observation Mr Horse Whisperer?”

“Got someone waiting for you on the outside?” New guy asks rather abruptly.

Stiles lets his head fall against the bars behind him like his fellow cellmate, a weary exhale escapes his mouth. “I’m pretty sure I blew that. The guy I messed things up with was the one I stole from.”

“You did say you turned yourself in, right? Maybe you have a chance after all.” New guy shares his opinion.

Okay, so this new guy was starting to live up to his kind face.

“That’s of course assuming by the time you serve your time he won’t have moved on with someone he can actually trust and hasn’t stolen from him.” New guy adds.

Stiles takes back his earlier statement. This guy sucked. “What’s your name?”

“Isaac. Isaac Lahey.”

“Cool. Isaac, right? Do you mind shutting the hell up and getting away from me? Stiles sneers. As if the thief didn't have enough negative thoughts swirling in his head, he certainly could do without the help of Isaac.

Despite Stiles’ less than friendly disposition toward Isaac, the new prisoner doesn’t seem at all fazed and remains seated beside him but at least keeps his mouth closed. It’s only when a new guard beckons for Stiles that Isaac looks worried - a bit on edge.

Stiles moves toward the jail cell door where the guard waits. He notices Officer Fire Crotch has left his post, this guard must be his replacement. Stiles figures the itching must have been too much handle and left early.

“Hands out.” The guard commands, brandishing a pair of handcuffs.

Stiles complies.

“Are we going to have a problem?” The guard asks with a raised voice, a hand hovering over his holstered gun.

The thief’s mouth hangs open in confusion. He did exactly as instructed. Why was the guard ready to use extreme force?

“Do I need to repeat myself!? Sit your ass back down!” The guard commands with fury.

That’s when Stiles sees the guard is looking past him. The thief turns his head around. There was Isaac looming closely behind Stiles, almost protectively. And Stiles could swear he heard the taller prisoner growl under his breath.

Something all of a sudden catches Isaac’s attention. The prisoner stares intensely at the ceiling and Stiles follows the line of sight in curiosity. In a flash, Isaac calms down and retreats back to his seat as though nothing happened.

As Stiles looks back from Isaac to the ceiling wondering what was that about, the guard harshly pulls Stiles’ still outstretched arms toward him and clanks in the handcuffs in place before escorting Stiles out the cell. The whole time, the guard watches Isaac for any signs of belligerence but Isaac finds cleaning his fingernails to be much more urgent matters.

=======3=========

Stiles finds himself being strong-armed by the guard down a narrow hallway at a hurried pace, the guard’s fingers digging painfully into the thief’s bicep.

“Take it easy, officer. I’m the one who volunteered a stay at your lovely precinct.” Stiles says in humor, hiding how much the grip by the guard starts to hurt.

“Just keep moving.” A strong tone of anger is evident in the guard’s voice.

And Stiles doesn’t miss the way the guard constantly looks around with suspicion.

Two pairs of footsteps are be heard coming from around the corner toward the guard and thief. The guard curses under his breath and makes a U-turn with Stiles heading in the opposite direction. This guy was raising some red flags with Stiles. But what could he do handcuffed and in a building full of cops that wouldn’t create more trouble for himself?

“Officer, wait!” A voice calls out to the guard from where the direction they were originally headed. 

They stop in their tracks.

Stiles, with his back to the voice, is freed from the guard’s grip, twisted around, and pulled into a tight hug in a single heartbeat. It happens so fast it takes Stiles a second to realize who’s hugging him.

“Dad?”

“What the hell have you gotten yourself into?” His father whispers in Stiles’ ear. 

=======4=========

After the Chief of Police personally escorts the thief and Sheriff Stilinski to his offices, he leaves them to their privacy. The Chief even uncuffed the thief. To say Stiles is impressed by his father’s clout is an understatement. He didn’t know how exactly a sheriff from a small town was able to pull enough sway for a private session with a prisoner but damn if Stiles isn’t surging with relief seeing his father safe and sound.

Stiles sits on top of the desk in the office, swinging his legs carelessly. “How’d you find out I was here?” He asks of his father.

Sheriff Stilinski smacks his son behind the head and gestures with a thumb to one of the two chairs in front of the desk, scolding his son’s ill manners. “You think I wouldn’t know if my own son was arrested?”

Stiles sighs heavily. Master thieves shouldn’t still be pushed around by their dad. He promptly hops off the desk to plant his butt in the proper seat as his dad takes the seat next to him. “But you weren’t supposed to be in contact with anyone!  _ Go off the grid. Maintain radio silence. _ Ring any bells?”

“Oh, you mean when my only child calls me panicking in the early hours of the morning to get his best friend’s mom and to find a safe place to hide? Yes, Stiles, I vaguely recall that.” Sheriff Stilinski chastises.

“I wasn’t panicking, I was in a hurry…” Stiles mumbles, scrapping the armrest of the mahogany chair with a fingernail.

His dad smacks his hand to stop the ill mannered action. “I have people at the department I can trust with my life, so don’t you worry about me. Now, can you please help me understand what the hell you were thinking of? Stealing, really? And how do you know Derek Hale - the CEO of Hale Enterprises?”

=======5=========

With some careful editing, Stiles gave his dad the high points of the story that led him to the holding cell.

“So Fawkes and Associates was a fake company? You were the one paying the medical bills?”

Stiles nods, a little amused at the name he came up with.

“So you’ve just been lying to me… about everything this whole time. Scott’s tution, the medical bills, your life in Beacon City…”

“That depends on your definition of ‘lying’. Because mine is ‘reclining your body in a horizontal position’.” Stiles hides a tiny smirk despite the gravity of the situation.

Sheriff Stilinski is so used to his smart alec of a son that he skates right past Stiles’ remark. “Alright. And this Kate character was kidnapping and experimenting on people. Why?”

“Honestly…” Stiles hates lying to his father… again. But there is no way he can tell the man before him about werewolves, especially without one around to prove it. Stiles rationalizes that there is no need to let his dad in on the supernatural secret. At least not right now. “She’s bat shit crazy.” It is the truth. “And she tried to use me to gather info from Hale Enterprises on people with…” A tendency to howl at the moon? “...a specific genetic trait for her to kidnap and dissect.” Still the truth, just not the whole truth.

Sheriff Stilinski nods solemnly as he absorbs what his son has told him. “Sounds like you were in right place at the right time. Not that I condone what you’ve done and how long you’ve been doing it.”

His father’s words remind Stiles of what Derek had said about if Stiles hadn’t taken the assignment to steal from Hale Enterprises then someone less inclined to help Derek would have taken Stiles’ role. But he still couldn’t forgive himself for what he had put everyone through. He couldn’t start to forgive himself until Kate Argent pays for her crimes and is no longer a threat to anyone.

“So this Hale guy, with millions at his disposal, couldn’t hire anyone to help him?”

“Well, technically he did. Me.” Stiles smiles.

Sheriff rolls his eyes. “Not what I meant, son. I mean, why did he put he himself in harm’s way? Why didn’t he call the police?”

“He felt personally responsible. And Kate has been getting away with this for who knows how long. She’s not an easy person to find. And we had limited window to catch her in a trap.”

“But--”

“Dad!” He needs to end his dad’s interrogation. The man was like a shark smelling a hint blood in the water. “It’s complicated. And it’s not important to tell you every single step on how I got here. Just that I’m here right now because I have to be. There’s no other way.”

His father frowns as reaches out and takes Stiles’ hand into his own while sitting in silence. Stiles wonders belatedly if going into cop mode was his father’s way of coping with the situation - a way of hopefully finding a solution. But there was no magic fix to save his son from prison. So Sheriff Stilinski soaks up the remaining time with his only son’s final moments of freedom.

But, much like Stiles, Sheriff Stilinski couldn’t stand the piercing quiet. “That Hale boy sounds like an okay guy. He was worried crazy about you.” He teases with a few pats on the back of Stiles’ hand.

“You spoke to Derek?” Stiles lets his mouth fall open. “How? When?  _ ‘Crazy worried’ _ you said?”

Sheriff Stilinski reaches in his pocket, pulling out a phone. A disposable one, thankfully. “I should put that boy out of his misery.” The sheriff mutters, ignoring Stiles’ line of questions. 

As Stiles saw his father speaking with Derek Hale, he realizes his two worlds are colliding again despite his actions to prevent it. Though this time is different than with Scott finding out because Scott had some inkling to Stiles’ shady secret life being his personal fixer upper whenever the thief was injured. Sheriff Stilinski, however, had been completely in the dark on his son’s activities. And now the man was unknowingly chatting with an actual werewolf while he visited his son in jail.

“Stiles, you idiot! What do you think you’re doing?!” Derek’s voice blasts through the phone when the thief is given the phone.

The thief winces. Apparently his dad filled in the werewolf while he was busy reflecting. 

“I’m coming down there to drop the charges. You can’t be arrested if there is no crime.” 

This is exactly what Stiles wanted to avoid when he slipped out of the hideout without letting Derek and Scott in on his plans. “Derek, you can’t! I’m the link tying her to the robbery and the facility without you being involved. It has to be this way.” He explains - not only to Derek but to his father looking meaningfully at him.

“She can’t do this.” Derek protests. “She’s going to destroy another life. Yours.”

“If her life is destroyed as well then it’s worth it.” A silence looms over their phone call. He knows he’s gotten through to Derek and the werewolf doesn’t know what to do to save the situation. “Don’t worry about me, just keep Scott safe for me… And my dad, please.” 

“Of course. I promise I’ll watch over them, Stiles.”

Stiles hangs up, ending the call with a weary sigh.

Even though Stiles didn’t have an exact location on where Kate was, the police’s involvement would help in eventually capturing her. With the evidence on the flash drive Stiles had duplicated before giving to Derek, they had the location of Kate’s facility, her other hideouts, accounts, and known associates. She won’t be able to hide for long - it was only a matter of time. But Stiles can’t be the one to leap into danger anymore running after Kate. It never worked out well for him any time he tried going after her. Derek, Scott, his dad… all were caught in the crossfire. This time he makes the decision to allow help from the police, even if the price cost him his freedom.

“Didn’t I tell you he was crazy worried.”

=======6=========

When Stiles returns to his cell, there is a twinkle in Isaac’s eye when Stiles sits beside the fellow cellmate. His decision to take the seat next to Isaac was not because he could use a somewhat familiar face but because it’s where he sitting before, Stiles tells himself. 

“You seem in a better mood considering where you’re sitting right now.” Isaac observes.

Stiles did feel better knowing everyone is safe. It helped solidify his decision to turn himself for the extra man power from the police. “Well, I am kinda use to being in this cell by now.”

“No - I mean, the drunk guy rubbed his naked butt on that side of the bench… kinda like a dog on a carpet. It was quite a disturbing sight.” Isaac informs in a too unflustered manner.

Stiles jumps out of his seat with a loud, shuddering groan. “Dude, why didn’t you warn me before I sat down!?” He proceeds to repeatedly swat his ass only belatedly realizing that using his hand to wipe whatever he may have sat on isn’t the best idea.

Isaac smiles widely at Stiles’ frantic freak out. “C’mon, do you really think I would sit right here if that actually happened?”

“I don’t know! I don’t even know you! Except that you’re name is Isaac… which may not be your name, you lying clown!

Isaac tilts his head. “Is that like a clown reclining his body in a horizontal position?”

Stiles snaps his head immediately toward Isaac.  _ That’s what I-- _ “How did--”

“Stilinski.” Stiles turns his attention to the guard with the kung-fu action grip. “It's time for another walk.”

“I literally just got back, where are you taking me now?”

“Don't make me ask again.”

Once he’s back in cuffs outside the cell, the guard whispers in Stiles’ ear. “Kate Argent sends her love.” Metal presses to the back of Stiles’ skull that he knows is a gun.

Before Stiles can let out a gasp, he hears strained grunting from behind then a clatter to the floor. He whips around to see Isaac lifting the guard, reaching out from inside the cell. Isaac isn’t a scrawny guy by any means but he should not be able to lift the guard by the neck using one hand with the effort of lifting a sack of potatoes.

“Why don’t you tell Kate that an execution isn’t part of his sentencing.” Isaac’s eyes glow gold, unlike Derek’s red ones - immediately confirming Stiles’ question. Isaac slams the guard towards him, hitting the metal bars with an heavy force, then tossing the guard at the wall - knocking him unconscious.

“Oh my God! Is everyone either a friggin’ werewolf or a friggin’ werewolf Hunter?!” Stiles yells out. He wipes a hand over his face.

“Holy shit…” Another detainee breathes out, sitting in a far off corner in the shared cell. “I think… I think I gotta stop shooting up. No more crystal meth. I’m seeing some crazy shit.” Then proceeds to lay down on the bench, curling up in a ball, and closing his eyes in an effort to sleep off ‘a bad trip’.

“Thanks for saving my life and everything but how are we gonna explain this to the cops?” At least they wouldn’t have to worry about the guy high as kite revealing any supernatural secrets. 

“The unconscious guard or how the camera has been off since he arrived?”

“What?” Stiles didn’t notice that. “Both?”

The guard turns out not to be as unconscious as they thought. “Go with plan B. I repeat, plan B.” He signals on a comm radio.

Stiles rushes to the guard and makes sure he’s unconscious this time with a choke hold. “Dude, what good is super hearing if you don't use it?” He scolds Isaac as he releases the curly haired man from the cell.

“Maybe if you weren't yammering…”

Stiles glares, wondering if it would be impolite to throttle the guy who saved him only moments ago.

“So what do you think is plan B?” Isaac wonders as he stares at the guard.

“I don't know, but we'll find out soon enough.” Which is what really worried Stiles.

The thief bends down and begins to check the corrupt cop’s clothing for anything that will help them. What the hell plan B is or Kate’s exact whereabouts.

Nothing useful was found. But staring at the guard sparks an idea in the thief’s mind.

“Isaac, I want you to take off your clothes.” Stiles orders.

“Um, I’m flattered but you’re not my type.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” First Danny, now this guy. Well, forget the both of them because there was a smoking hot CEO who felt up Stiles more than once and liked it - very much so. 

And he totally messed that up. 

But no time for dwelling on that. A window of opportunity is closing with every second ticking by. 

“Just shut up and put on this crooked cop’s uniform on.” Stiles commands as he strips the rest of guard’s uniform off. He looks back at Isaac who has just taken off his cardigan and shirt. Not to ogle but to determine if the uniform is a good fit. Isaac was tall and had broad, define muscles. It’s a little hard to tell with the guard sprawled on the ground but they look like a close enough match.

Stiles gives Isaac the rundown of their plan as his new friend changes.

=======7=========

The door of the police chief’s office bursts open causing Sheriff Stilinski to jump out of his seat. The intrusion is caused by no other than his criminal son. Why did that not surprise him? “Stiles, what’re you…?”

“No time to chat, pops. We need to get moving, like, ten minutes ago.”

“Kate Argent found out Stiles is here and sent her people to kill him.” Isaac catches Stiles’ dad up to speed then shrugs when Stiles turns to direct a glare at him. “See, there was time.”

The lights cut off and the sound of shattered glass echo from another room the shroud of darkness surrounding them.

“Okay, maybe not.” Isaac retracts.

“We need to warn Derek and Scott to move, they may be compromised.” If they found Stiles, they might be able to find Derek too. Stiles wasn't going to ask Derek to aid him. With everything the thief has done, putting Derek at risk again was not option.

But he couldn’t get a signal of any kind from his dad’s phone. And the phone line was disconnected. All communications to the outside was effectively cut off. 

“See if you can contact anyone with your radio.” Sheriff Stilinski requests to Isaac, still dressed as police officer.

“He’s not a real cop, dad.” Stiles reveals to his dad. 

An odorless smoke began filled the air, seeping through the vents and door opening. 

“Oh, what now?”

It must be a smoke screen because other than limiting their vision no other effects were apparent. Or so Stiles thought.

Isaac's tall form comes crumbling down to the ground in a fit of coughing and wheezing. His neck features black veins and his nose drips a black, blood-like substance. 

Stiles had seen this same effect when Derek had been shot with the wolfsbane bullets. In Derek’s case, they needed to remove the bullet to allow his body to heal properly. If the same applies to Isaac’s case, they would need to remove the toxic air around them. Too bad they weren’t in a hospital with oxygen masks to purify Isaac’s lungs. Even if they plug the door creases and the air vents, nothing in here could diffuse the poisonous air already circulating in Isaac’s body. 

“Wait a minute. Diffuse… mask… that could work…” Stiles thinks out loud.

“Does he talk to himself a lot?” Isaac stifles a brutal sounding cough in the crook of his elbow.

Stiles’ thought process is interrupted when a painfully familiar voice introduces itself on the PA system throughout the police station.

“Hello there, Mr. Fox. I know you can hear me.” Kate Argent anounces in song. “Ready or not here I come.”

_ Oh, great. This bitch. _ Looks like there was still one line of communication open… Stiles knew her people were behind the failed assassination attempt in the cell. But the thief hadn’t thought she would personally see to Stiles’ end like this. Kate Argent did not mind getting her hands dirty at all. And she also liked hearing her voice being broadcasted.

“Fox?” Isaac screws his face in confusion.

“It’s my name. Crimson Fox.”

Isaac snorts, able to find humor despite his sickly appearance.

“You do know I can leave you to die, right?”

Fortunately, Isaac has enough strength to use his heightened senses to help Stiles and the sheriff move him through the precinct undetected. Stiles had asked his dad to hide in the police chief’s office but the older man refused to stay behind.

“ _ I'm sworn to uphold the law, kid.  I don’t run from trouble, I run towards it and help any way I can.” _

It was a good thing his father tagged along because carrying Isaac, woozy from the gas, on his own wouldn’t have gone as quickly as it did with help. They were so close to the bomb squad room. But then Kate reared her irritating voice.

There’s feedback in the speakers alerting them to another broadcast by Kate.“I’m growing weary of our mouse and cat game. How about a new game? A special game, just for you. It’s called: come out right now and I won't put a bullet in… I'm sorry, sweetie. What's your name?”

A new voice, shaking with fear, says. “M-my is M-m Megan.”

“Thank you.” Kate directs softly at Megan, then resumes her chat with Stiles. “It’s called come out and I won't put a bullet in  **_Megan's_ ** sweet little skull. I know it’s not a very catchy title but I think it’s very self-explanatory. “I'll give, hmm… what's a good amount of time, Megan?

She must have the microphone or whatever directly in Megan’s face because Megan’s sobbing comes through the speakers at full volume.

“Oh, Megan. Don't cry, you're still alive... for now. How about seven minutes?” In a stage whisper she adds, “in case he crawled into some tiny vent and needs time squeezing out. Sounds good, Megan?” Then with a grit in her voice, “I know how you love squeezing in vents, Mr Fox.” Obviously still pissed about how Stiles snuck into her facility undetected through the air ducts. 

Would Kate really do this? Killing 'her own kind’? From what Stiles has witnessed from Kate's behavior. She was not against doing anything in order to get her way. Almost killing entire building of people she claimed to be protecting from werewolves with the explosion she left for Stiles in his apartment.

If there was one thing Stiles learned from all this, he was done having others pay the price for his crimes. Turning himself in was his chance to end this - he knew this. But it looks like it would end in a way he hadn't expected. As long as no one else was hurt then so be it. He would make this final sacrifice. Kate would kill him - no doubt. But Stiles had given the police enough proof to put her away - regardless of his death, the evidence would stick.

All that was left to do was say his goodbye to the person that meant the most to him. “Dad --”

“No, Stiles. Don't you dare.” His father interrupts already knowing what Stiles was ready to do.

But Stiles’ mind was already made up. He swings Isaac's arm off his shoulder, shifting the werewolf's weight onto his dad's, and pats the young werewolf on the back - not knowing how else to say such a heavy goodbye to someone he’s only known for an hour or so.

“Remember: Stilinskis don’t run from trouble we run towards it and help.”

Without any resignation in his voice, Noah responds. “That’s supposed to be my job, Stiles.”

“Well, I’m making it a family motto now. Get him there. And he'll be able to save everyone if Kate decides to… clean her mess.”

He wouldn't put it past her after Stiles’ apartment.

Mentally hearing a clock was ticking, the thief spares a quickly hug for his father before Stiles runs off to deliver himself to Kate, suppressing the urge at what could be the last time to look at his father. 

=======8=========

“Glad you could join us.” Kate greets Stiles as her minions brought the thief to his knees in front of her. “Looks like you get to live, Megan.” Kate flashes a smile at the crying woman with mascara running down the sides of her face as she's escorted to a separate area out most likely where the other cops are being held. 

Returning her sights on Stiles, she asks. “So where is the mutt?”

“You said you wanted me. Am I not good enough? Nice way to make a guy feel special.”

Kate moves into Stiles’ space, leans forward, and pinches his cheek. “Oh. You are plenty, Mr Fox.” Then the perceivably sweet gesture turns bitter when she roughly backhands Stiles, filling the tense air with a loud slap.

Stiles rotates his jaw, adjusting to the sharp stinging pain. There’s a tinge of blood he can taste in his mouth. 

The thief knows Kate will want to drag out his punishment before his inevitable execution. With any luck, he wouldn't have to eat out of a straw by the time Isaac got to the bomb squad room. Though Stiles would settle for eating out of a straw if that meant he'd survive this.

“Besides, I think you've seen what my gas is capable of. A bit slow acting for my liking but I'm sure your scrumptious abomination is long dead by now. And I'll have his corpse as a trophy. The great Derek Hale of Hale Enterprises - an alpha werewolf.” Kate stares off past Stiles’ shoulder with a look of elation, visualizing her coming victory. “It's a shame I can't expose his true nature to the world.”

Even if they don’t manage to save Stiles, perhaps Stiles could stall Kate long enough for his dad and Isaac to capture her before she escapes. Luckily, the one tool Stiles always has at the ready is his mouth.

“Why haven’t you exposed them this entire time? I mean, you weren’t in short supply of kidnapped werewolves to show off the the world - so why the secret?” Stiles questions. Although he was trying to buy time, the thief honestly was curious to why Kate hadn’t revealed them to the population.

Kate smirks and takes the bait. “It is our sworn job as hunters to keep this Earth spinning safe and sound without anyone having to worry about the supernatural menace underneath their noses. Can you imagine the chaos that would ensue if these sheep knew there were literal wolves among them?”

“So basically it would make your job harder if everyone were crying wolf.” Stiles surmises.

“Bingo.”

Working in the shadows makes sense in a way, Stiles thinks. If there were a hunter hotline so to speak, you could get rid of an annoying co-worker, nosy neighbors would suspect every minor weirdness, and imagine the number people falsifying reports to get payback on an ex-lover. But that wasn’t all to it… not for someone like Kate Argent.

“And not to mention you have a sick penchant for hunting down werewolves and torturing them.”

Kate sucks in air between her teeth and then smiles that sickly sweet smile without a gram of sweet Stiles has come to hate. “Well, we all have our talents. See,” she waggles a finger, “I knew there was a reason I liked you. Such a clever little fox. Shame you had to waste your talent defending a doomed species. Which reminds me…”

A soundless scream emitted from Stiles’ throat after Kate pierces a blade into his hand. After she pulls it out Kate snaps her fingers. The random Drone One behind her wipes the bloodied blade with a cloth and then she sheathes it back into the tactical holster around her thigh. This obviously wasn’t a first time for her.

Stiles clutches the gash as best as he can in a desperate attempt to try and control the pain. The blade left his severed nerve endings burning hot in its absence. The unrelenting pain of the piercing object, splitting his pale skin apart, sent him down to the ground in a flash.

“You’re lucky, Mr Fox. It’s usually customary for one to lose a hand when stealing.”

 

He glares up the psychotic woman after she declares him being lucky - not feeling particularly lucky with blood spilling from the freshly open wound. 

His eyes drift to the side of Kate and behind her backup to, that acted like mindless drones from their expressionless faces to their stiff stance, when a blur of movement catches Stiles’ eyes behind Kate and her backup. The blur was so fast that Stiles thought it to be a trick of his eyes. He continues to looking around for a sign that he wasn’t alone because if the cavalry was ready was then he would need to keep all eyes on him as a distraction.

Stiles is so distracted by the ‘blur of movement’, that he’s caught off-guard for the second backhand smack Kate strikes at him for not paying attention. She hits the other side of the thief’s face. Great, now the sides of his face can have matching bruises. He wouldn’t be able to cradle his sore face with one hand still clutching the other slashed hand.

“I’m going to ask you to pay attention, Mr Fox. Before I lose my patience.” Kate says in a cold, detached manner. “Like I was saying -

 

“Doomed?” The thief continues for her - at least the last thing he heard her rant about. “Derek is still alive. You’ve lost now that he knows what you’re really up to. You pissed off a werewolf with a net worth of hundreds of million dollars - maybe a billion, I didn’t crunch the numbers thoroughly - and you actually still think you’re gonna win?” Stiles chuckles.

The thief’s plan to goad Kate’s attention was too effective. She hovers her foot over Stiles hand and stomps over his bleeding hand, just as he was starting to slow down the bleeding. This time Stiles scream can be heard throughout the station. She doesn’t lift her foot after the action, twisting her heel further down as Stiles tries in vain to push her booted leg away.

“Even my toxin hadn’t already killed him, it’s just a matter of time, Mr Fox. Why do you think Derek hasn’t beaten me before? Because he is just one man. And I have…” Kate turns around to indicate her minions but instead finds herself alone.

Stiles breathes heavily, shaking from the pain but doesn’t miss the opportunity to retaliate. “I’m sorry, you were saying something?

Kate unholsters a pistols from the side of her thigh, whipping her head and aiming her gun around the room in an effort to find and kill Isaac.

“Told you he was alive.” Stiles knows it’s Isaac behind the silent assault but it was more effective to taunt her with Derek being the menace.

Her look of bewilderment morphs into a challenging smirk.

Kate is fast. She’d have to be fast to keep up with werewolves. 

A shot is fired. And hits Isaac directly.

“No!” Stiles yells out when he sees Isaac hit the ground. Kate turns the gun on Stiles. Wagging her finger of her other hand. Stiles looks behind her shoulder and she doesn’t miss a beat. Kate swivels around with practiced grace brandishing another gun and rains a torrent of bullets at Isaac. As each round of fire is shrugged off, Kate’s smirk sinks down into a disbelieving frown as Isaac advances toward her like Death incarnate ready to claim her soul. Once Isaac is within reach, he grabs her by the throat and her mouth falls open as does her pistols. 

Once Isaac steps out of the shadows, Stiles can see the bulky blackness of Isaac’s clothing. Bulletproof armor. Full proof tactical armor, in fact. A breathing mask with nearly every inch cover in black metallic coating.

_ Good thinking, Dad. _

Isaac lifts his mask to reveal… 

“Derek? Is Isaac…?”

“He’s okay. And so is your father.” Answering the next question about to form on the thief’s lips.

A fit of hysterical giggles refocuses Derek and Stiles’ attention from one another to an amused Kate.

“You fools! What do you really think you’ve accomplished here?! Nothing but a temporary stay of execution for his kind! I may have lost but I there are others at my command. As long as there is still breath in my body I will make you are hunted down, Hale! And your abomination of a species!” Kate spits out. Even hovering over the ground with Derek hands about to crush her windpipe, her hate doesn’t falter.

“You will never stop, will you? Children, parents, innocent people. They mean nothing to you.” Derek says so quietly, Stiles wonders if he even meant to say it out loud. The answer was already clear to Derek without a response, so he squeezes his fingers tighter around Kate’s throat until she began gasping for air - her eyes bulging out. With Derek’s strength, Stiles figures the werewolf could have snapped her neck easily but is savoring her slow end at his hands. 

Though Stiles is shocked by the sight of watching someone being suffocated, he understands it needs to be done. They have to make sure this ends right here and right now.

“Derek - it’s Derek, right?” Stiles’ whips his head to the source of the voice. 

“Dad!” Stiles exclaims, happy to have visual proof of his father’s safety.

But Stiles spoke no further when the Sheriff pressed a finger to his lips, signaling Stiles to remain quiet. He obeys, biting his lip to keep the dying need to speak. The thief can see his father was in cop mode as the older man speaks in a calming, authoritative voice.

“That’s the abomination’s name. Nice to meet you, Papa Fox. Kate smiles. Stiles’ father must have had an effect on Derek if his grip loosened around her neck enough to allow her to speak. A deranged smile features on Kate’s face from being able to insult the werewolf - if it would be her final act with the rage flaring on Derek’s expression.

Sheriff Stilinski draws Derek’s attention again, hoping to quell the urge to kill. “Derek, I understand this…  _ woman _ here did a lot of horrifying things to people you cared about. And you have every right to want to hurt her. To want to put a permanent end. But don’t do it, son. Don’t prove her right and be a monster like she claims you are. I’m not sure what you are exactly but I know you’re no monster. You saved my son and these men and women. Now it’s time to save your self.”

Derek keeps his grip strong, making sure Kate wouldn’t utter another anger provoking word. But his eyes shows his resolve weakening in taking Kate’s life. The werewolf takes his sight off Kate and focuses on the wall beside her.

Sheriff Stilinski keeps talking. “I had the pleasure of meeting your mother a few times back when I worked here in Beacon City. I knew her well enough that she wouldn’t want her only son spilling blood like this.”

Stiles stands by his father - his hand in a makeshift Stiles created during the talk. He felt ashamed in standing by - in wanting Derek to finish Kate off. “Derek, he’s right. From what I overheard at that party that night, Talia Hale was… she saw the best in people. I think like how you saw something good in me…” Stiles helps finish what his father started.

Stiles’ father pats him on the shoulder. “This  _ woman _ ,” referring to Kate who continued to loosen Derek’s grasp to no avail. “She held an entire police station hostage. Stiles has evidence of the mutilation and illegal experimentation she was involved in. Those lives are lost, son, but you’ve done your part in making sure no one else gets hurt. Now let us do our part and put her away for the rest of her life.”

Derek looks back at Stiles to see the thief nod  encouragingly at him. The werewolf looks back into Kate’s soulless, hate-filled eyes daring him to do it. To have the guts to kill her right in front of everyone. 

How easy it would be to make sure she wouldn't be a problem… 

Derek snarls. He pulls her towards his face. “This is goodbye, Kate.” Derek says between gritted teeth. Then he slams her head back against the wall and drops the unconscious woman like the bag of rotten trash she is.

The sheriff runs to Kate, checking her pulse to if the impact was fatal. 

He gives his son, who hovers behind him cradling his damaged hand, a thumbs up to confirm she is still breathing. 

Stiles is of course relieved not for Kate, but for Derek not ending up as his cellmate.

“Sorry, Sheriff. I just didn’t want to hear anything else come out of her mouth or I might’ve changed my mind.” Derek explains.

The Sheriff nods in understanding. “Can’t say I blame you, son.” He walks up to Derek and shakes his hand. “I know it wasn’t easy but you did do the right thing.”

Derek nods solemnly and watches with a sigh of relief as the cops haul away Kate and her men, all of which were either unconscious or incapacitated - a familiar scene when he and Stiles were escaping Kate’s underground facility. Unfortunately, Kate and her men weren’t the only ones being taken in custody. Stiles was being escorted along with them.

“Wait!” Derek exclaims to the police chief. “I want to drop any charges about Stiles Stilinski stealing from my company.” 

“Sorry, sir, but Mr Stilinski is still connected to a string of other burglaries we’ve linked him to.” The police chief regretfully informs.

Stiles breaks free from their hold before he can be cuffed and surges forth to Derek, wrapping his arms tightly around the werewolf. Derek returns the embrace and sinks his face into the crook of Stiles’ neck.

They both stay intertwined in each other’s arms as the police wait awkwardly to the side. Their gratitude from being saved by the pair hold off Stiles being inevitably taken away.

But what felt like all too sudden, a throat clears itself to let them know their time was up.

The grateful werewolf caresses Stiles’ face in his palm. And the thief closes his eyes to relish the moment. Stiles felt overwhelmed with a warm comfort flowing throughout his body. He later realises the feeling is not only because of being so close to Derek but also the werewolf’s healing power. His hand wasn’t fully healed but he didn’t feel as cold from the loss of blood and the pain dissipated to a dull throbbing.

When Stiles opens his eyes he doesn’t look into Derek’s, staring purposely at the werewolf’s armored chest. The thief gulps around the lump in his throat and speaks once he feels he’s found his voice. “So… Wanna have a prison pen pal?”

Derek rolls his eyes fondly. “Sure, I’d like that.”

“And maybe bake me a cake with a hacksaw inside.” Stiles winks.

“Shut up, Stiles.” Derek says with a smile.

They don’t tell each other goodbye knowing it wouldn’t be the end right there for them. Just a short pause.

=======9=========

Stiles has had his fair share of surprises leading to his current incarceration but it seems the world is in no short supply of handing out more surprises to the thief. Of all the people Stiles expected to be his first visitor after he settled into a cushy minimum state prison facility - a perk from saving an entire police station and handing over a major criminal, Jackson Whittemore was the last person on his list. Actually, Jackson wasn’t even on the list because Stiles had scratched off the former friend and occasionally lover once Jackson made it clear his loyalty belonged to himself.

Once Stiles sits at the visitor table, Jackson immediately talks looking like he could’ve used some practice beforehand. “What have you been up to?” Jackson winces. “Sorry… dumb question.”

“I'd expect no less from a two faced idiot.”

Jackson nervously scratches the back of neck. A move that looks so out of place from the usually cocky, arrogant guy. “We don’t have to make small talk - I know you don’t want to talk to me anyway.”

“No, there’s a few choice words I have to say to you.” Stiles responds icily with crossed arms. 

At the time of their final parting, Stiles had been to busy with a gravely injured Derek to deal with the former friend - Jackson’s double cross being the reason Derek was shot in the first place. But seeing him sitting dressed in his usual high end clothing while Stiles wears a orange jumpsuit swelled those old feelings to the surface. If it had not been for the guards around them, Stiles would’ve share more than his words. For now, a hardened glare will have to suffice.

“Please, Stiles - just listen.” Jackson begs. “I want you to know that I am sorry.”

Stiles blows a breath out. The fake identity on the name tag stuck to Jackson’s shirt told Stiles all he needed to know about what Jackson was up to these days. The guy still hadn’t walked away from the criminal life like Stiles and Danny had planned.

“I am.” Jackson argues. “Look, it doesn’t matter whether you believe me or not. Just don’t bother making any friends here. You won’t be here much longer.” 

The ominous statement causes Stiles to scrunch his face. “What the hell are you talking about, Jack--- Oh sorry, I mean - Mr Kanima.” Funny how Jackson had the nerve to use his former codename back when Stiles, Jackson, and Danny were a team that could trust each other.

“Let’s just say that voters will find the Mayor’s past very shocking compared to the wholesome family image he likes to project. I think you both have a mutual friend - Kate Argent.” Jackson lets the information sinks in.

The last Stiles heard of Kate, she wasn’t getting out in this lifetime or the next. Although she really did have others she could count on, it seems they’ve distanced themselves from her. She was all alone now.

“Thank you, Jackson.”

“No. Thank you, Stiles. I know you don’t think so but this is the life I wanted and I couldn’t have had it without you and Danny.” Jackson’s hand moves forward to place over Stiles’ but the thief jerks away from the touch. Jackson looks momentarily hurt before he stands up from the table. “Goodbye.”

Stiles gives a limp wave as a farewell and then watches Jackson leave. Too many thoughts swirling in his mind to give a better goodbye. He still couldn’t help thinking that Jackson was making a mistake continuing that lifestyle but the guy was content it seems. And barely a week into Stiles’ sentence and it was already coming to an end.

The world really had no short supply of surprises for the thief.

=======10=========

Stiles stretched his arms and inhaled deeply. There was no real difference between the air outside the gates of the jail or station. Nevertheless, the freedom Stiles felt made the air so much sweeter.

He saw in the near distance a familiar dark, sleek car and a familiar dark, sleek man. Both waiting to take him far away from there.

“Hi.” He greets softly, almost afraid this is all too good to be true.

“Hi.” Derek repeats back, one might say in a shy tone. The big softie.

Stiles takes a chance and throw his arms around Derek like their last meeting. Time had passed between and Stiles was nervous if Derek still feels the same way about the thief - the exonerated, former thief. What would Stiles call himself now? The guy falling for a werewolf? The guy hoping to regain his father’s trust? The guy who wants to help his best friend adjust to becoming a werewolf? The guy who has no idea who he is without moving through the cover of darkness in a red hooded costume? Stiles would need to find a new identity. But for now, he was happy enough just to be Stiles, the guy straddling a werewolf in the backseat of a car. 

Not bothering waiting to get to a decent place, they immediately have their intimate reunion in the parking lot of where Stiles was incarnated.

He almost lost his freedom, his friends and family, then his life. But now he’s free and he needed a tangible way to confirm the nightmare is behind him. He wanted the blissful touch of Derek underneath, on top - any way the werewolf wants as long as Stiles is with him.

Stiles clutches onto Derek like it is his only lifeline keeping him from thinking this is a dream. A dream could never compare to this. He practically inhales Derek's breath between lust fueled kisses that leave both breathless. And no doubt the car is gaining notice with the intense grinding causing Stiles’ already heated body to go into overdrive.

He wants Derek so bad - to have as much of Derek as he could get. But it was too spontaneous. No supplies. No time to prepare. But he could still share himself with Derek in other ways and there would always be time for more later now that freedom was in Stiles’ grasp. For now Stiles would take something else into his grasp as the two lowered their jeans. And clearly the desire was mutual from what Stiles could see and feel of Derek.

Stiles whines once Derek grabs a fist of his hair to pull him further into a sloppy kiss, tongues entwining while Derek's hips and Stiles’ fist pump a steady rhythm. 

Derek ends the hungry kiss and rest his forehead on Stiles’. “I'm so close…”

“Yeah? Come on, big guy. Give me what you got.” Stiles encourages.

“Not without you. I want us... together.” Derek's words began getting choppy. Stiles could tell the werewolf is trying vigorously to stave off his orgasm.

Something about that triggers something in Stiles. The fact Derek cares about seeing Stiles finish. The fact Derek wants them to finish together. How turned on the werewolf seems to be by Stiles. It is all hitting the right buttons for Stiles on an emotional level. And physically… definitely hitting the right buttons.

Stiles wasn’t sure exactly who came first but he definitely feels more than his share once the intense high causing his chest to heave as if he ran a marathon wore down.

“Would it be presumptuous to ask you back to my place?” Derek asks, rubbing down the sides of Stiles.

“After that? I’d be offended if you didn’t. Just help me clean this up and I’m all yours.” Stiles wonders if Derek heard the true meaning behind his last words. He wants a chance to be Derek’s and for this not to be a fling or purely physical. Stiles wants his second chance to be with someone like Derek who can hopefully bring out the best in him.

“That’s a promise I intend for you to keep.” Derek leans up to Stiles, still straddling him, for a lingering kiss.

When their lips part, Stiles feels secure that Derek caught his meaning and that maybe the past was truly behind him once he walked out of those prison gate.

“Woah, I thought I was the thief but you stole my breath away.” Stiles says dramatically with a hand over his heart.

Derek groans at the corny line, but fails to hide his smile.

Stiles whacks Derek, feeling indignant by the now laughing werewolf. “Hey, I never said I was writer.” And he was also not a thief. Not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what... This ain't the end! Muahaha! Technically this was the original ending when I first started (TWO YEARS AGO! O_O). But I have one more story that starts a new journey for Stiles. The Kate storyline is done though. She's rotting in prison, buh-bye. I would like to have the next, last (no lie) entry at least 60% completed before I post so updates won't be as infrequent as they've been in the past.   
> Stay tuned and thank you all again for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are cool. Not that I'm asking.  
> (but I am)


End file.
